When the Clock Strikes Twelve
by IKckedGanondorfsA
Summary: Claiming to despise the holiday, Jack wakes up on New Years Eve to find himself in a compromising position when the simple knowledge of Bunny embodying his human form at midnight forces him to fixate, caught between the fantasy and reality of his feelings as he attempts to explore them up close, and personally. (use of alcohol.sexual situations.language.humanoid.jackrabbit)
1. Part I of III

**_*feel free to ignore the majority of this; anything 'important' will be right before the story header anyways-the rest is just me mindlessly ranting*_**

**_-.-.-.-_**

**_Okay, so, seeing as how I am the queen of dragging out story projects over the course of YEARS-my little sister challenged me to finally buckle down and write a one shot. I realize this hardly sounds like a dilemma, buuut pretty much every 'one shot' I've ever written became a full-blown, drawn out plot line._**

**_HOWEVER; I think I've finally done it_**

**_SACRE BLEU!_**

**_It's only taken me my whole life..._**

**_...aaannnd I'm still cheating a little bit, _****_because i'll be posting this in several parts_**

**_(mostly because I'm impatient and suffering writers block; aka terrible, unforgivable boredom.)_**

**_ANYWHO; yes,_**

**_JackRabbit is my guilty-i'm-definitely-twenty-one-years-and-getting-too-old-for-this-pleasure. _**

**_Dreamworks is TOTALLY to blame though!_**

**_ Because I went to see ROTG wholesomely, with NO shipping expectations...and I'm sitting in the theater with my little 3D glasses, next to my mom and sister, losing my shit ten minutes in like: _**

**_"WTF, Giant Rabbits, Dead Kids, and Sexual Tension!? IS ANYONE ELSE SEEING THIS!?"_**

**_Haha, talk about an awkward conversation to initiate. Although, now that I've dealt with the initial shame and subsequent questioning of myself as a human being (hahah); I've come to terms with it all._**

**_It's my ship. And I'm going down with it._**

**_GOOD; any who; sorry; no one cares about any of that._**

**_-.-.-.-_**

**_***MISC. INFORMATION ABOUT THIS FIC***_**

**_-It's a New Years fic, even though I ABHOR New Years; and it takes place kind of '500 Hundred Days of Summer' like, jumping through the time frame. So all the scenes are divided between the designations of time, obviously, that will appear as so: |2:40 PM| _****_Basically, I go through the entire day, chopping it into individual scene segments-the segments will occur chronologically though; no skipping backwards and forwards at random, or any of that jazz. The first part is everything up until around midnight, and the second is everything after that. (good, very descriptive...)_**

**_-Since I mentioned the format of this story is all spliced up, keep this in mind when you come across choppier scenes, or when scenes end on random notes-this is purely to accomplish the task of stringing together a story in fast-forward and little to no prelude/and/or/room for major plot development. (cause i'll write forever if i start planning too many things in depth)_**

**_-Oh yes, the point of 'New Years' is since its supposedly to 'celebrate new beginnings' blahblah, that it's the one day of the year where Tooth and Bunny inhabit their human forms for the night. And the rest is inferable lol._**

**_-There will be 'alcohol' in the story-so yes, everybody is drinking. I apologize if it's not your scene, but I enjoy putting a more mature spin in terms of certain behavioral contexts, etc., etc.,_**

**_-There will also be sexual activity present in this fic; I'm not positive how detailed yet; if I had to guess I'd say tastefully descriptive, and more than enough attention to the important details lol. Don't go expecting me to go all Fifty-Shades though-I don't touch plotless, twilight soft-core pornos for bored housewives...although I realize now, how sad this statement is when I stop to think about what I'M actually posting bahaha. oops. teehee._**

**_-And yeah, that's all I can think of. Basically I either reread this and LOVE it, or hate it, and proceed to knit-pick and destroy multiply drafts. Promising, no? lol, however, go easy on me, I'm knew to this one shot business, and writing for this pairing._**

**__****_-.-.-.-_**

**__****_okay; that's all folks!_**

**__****_Read. Enjoy [Or Hate]. Review._**

**__****_But mostly, please review :)_**

**__****_I respond to all comments; either in PM'S or following posts_**

**__****_&& I also have a RV-4-RV policy; where basically, if you leave me a comment, I'll return the favor, and review one of your stories. _**

**__****_**if you'd like me to do this, however, PLEASE SPECIFY IN YOUR POST, as well as including any particular suggestions for stories you want reviews for**_**

**__****_Done. For Real._**

**__****__****_-.-.-.-_**

_A __One__ Shot _| _Part I of II_

-IX-

-VII-** When The Clock Strikes Twelve **-V-

-IV-

|9:50 **AM**|

Jack rose groggily from his slumber, glancing around at the rude awakening of the time, followed by the mental memo that he had somewhere to be at _10:30_—processing only that far before happening to catch the date posted on the calendar across the room in bold, black, Times New Roman.

"_Ugh_."

He released an unflattering, and equally disgusted noise of protest— as if to prove something to the lifeless sheet of paper he was now engaging in a disoriented, mid-morning staring contest with.

_Just give it up already_, he thought aggravated…

…Everyone was always claiming it was '_soo_ _magical_.' That the way you spent _New Years _was the way you'd spend the next year of your life. That it was the precedent from which the rest was set. The idiotic ideology that he'd been watching for a lifetime—the response projecting in all the cliché' life-styled dramas, and in all the starry-eyed teens he'd followed over the years from party to party. Watching as generation after generation threw all bets off for a single night of unpredictable happenstance.

Jack rolled his eyes inwardly, _as if __**those**__ are promising odds…_

All that ever changed were the fashion statements and the substance abuse— the rest remained static and cyclical; but admittably, Jack had been fascinated at first. Never understanding why they threw away their hopes and dreams and deepest secrets to the disappointment. And then relived it annually. He himself had lost countless years to the tragic study of cause and effect—eventually allowing the lot of it to morph his fascination into a deep, state of detest for the festivities, refusing to take part in them at all.

Which was the problem with waking up with _December 31__st _circled several times in blue, sharpie snowflakes…

This year. He was one of them.

One of _those _people…

Considering the absurdity of the notion, Jack finally disengaged, falling back into the mess of blankets. _"ThisIsn'tHappening,"_ came a deep, muffled groan from beneath whichever pillow he was currently smothering himself with; attempting, in vain, to suffocate the **one**, _particular_ sequence he'd been cooking up for months now…

The simple, self-confirmation that he had taken to _New Years_ like a junkie takes to needles; injecting himself thoughtlessly with this life-threatening disease, instantly developing an insatiable habit for the most heart-breaking addiction…For seeking solace in the altered perceptions—for falling victim to the simple misconception that any of it was real.

_IT_.

Was about six feet tall—

Australian—

"And never going to happen," he glared inwardly in conclusion.

|10:45 **AM**|

Jack locked eyes with the doors to North's _Globe Room_—where _all_ the other Guardians were waiting for his oh-so-characteristic, late arrival.

_ Deep breath._

"_Well_," he inhaled while blue eyes closed, aligning his palms with the double doors, "it's _all down hill_ from here…"

|11:00 **AM**|

"So..." Jack rocked back on his heals provokingly, "…_New Years_…"

"It's _not_ that big a' deal," the Australian insisted ineffectually, shooting Jack a forewarning glance that only seemed to entice the winter sprite.

"_Not a big deal_?" he echoed, leaning into his staff with a self-knowing smirk, "Did you forget what today _is_, Bunny?"

"Oh, Bunnymund does not forget _this_ day," North interjected lightheartedly, "just like Easter—he is always making way bigger deal of than really is."

Taking a defensive hop forward, the Pooka narrowed his eyes, "Whoa now, Mate. New Years is _no_ Easter."

"You are right, my friend," the rotund, red-clad belly shook with laughter, "more people celebrate it."

Although disappointed that the conversation between them had been stolen, Jack couldn't help but grin at the ensuing antics; watching amusedly as emerald eyes narrowed and pierced.

"Too far," Bunny glared, unappreciative of North making this even more insufferable than it already was.

Standing a few centimeters behind him, Sandy nodded in agreement, while a set of perpendicular lines materialized overhead in segments of amber dream sand. Followed shortly by Tooth, who proceeded to swoop down between the confrontation in order to act as the voice of reason.

"_Enough!_ " She silenced any further protest, reprimanding them like a disappointed parent. "Sandy's right. That crossed the line," Tooth affirmed, looking back and forth sternly from one guardian to the next as they glanced up, at each other, and away. "_North_, apologize. Aster, _relax_."

"_Don't_ tell me to relax," Bunny fussed unreceptively, matched by the larger man's shoulders dropping with a deflated sigh, "Is absolutely necessary, Tooth?"

However, the keeper of memories simply hovered as silently as Sandy, with an even expression across her features, and her hands propped against her hips in an air of maternal authority.

At the sight of the infamous combination, right away both of them knew better than to try and argue their way out of her terms.

"I am sorry," North sighed. "You are right, Bunnymund, New Years is no Easter."

Bunny nodded in approval, unable to accept the apology verbally when he knew all too well he'd only wind up compromising the peace with some kind of backhanded slight.

"_Well_," Jack exclaimed awkwardly, falling into the stages of intoxication, and untangling from his staff, "_I'm_ excited."

The Australian rolled his eyes. "You _would_ be excited over the biggest joke of a holiday, Frost."

"_Oh_, it's not New Years that I'm excited for," an impish grin unfolded.

"No idea what ya' even talkin' about, mate," the other feigned ignorance, refusing to rise to the bait.

"He means _you _Bunnymund," North clarified obliviously, "Jack is excited for _midnight._ To _see._"

"_Thank you_, North," Jack nodded, causing the jovial elder to smile proudly before the sprite continued to plague Bunny relentlessly, "I wouldn't miss _this_ countdown for the world."

Another warning glance shot from green eyes into blue, "Well you have fun with that."

"To _midnight_," Jack specified out of spite, "and you know what _that_ means, don't you?"

His ears flattened, and Bunny sank back into his heals. "Don't say it…"

"_Naked-Skin!" _Jack shouted excitedly, throwing both arms above his head in a burst of smiles and laughter.

"Why do you have to call it that?" Aster asked, shaking his head embarrassedly. "Of _all_ the things," he stressed, "why did it have to be _that_?"

"Because you're not gonna have any _fur_, **stupid**."

The other grumbled, "Doesn't mean I'll be _naked_."

"Tomato, _Tamahto_," Jack shrugged. "Either way, it's going to be one for the books."

"_For_ _cryin' out loud_!" Both paws flung forward dramatically, "I don't turn into _the batman_, frostbite. I don't see why ya' gotta keep talkin' it up like this."

"Because it is big deal!" North insisted.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, grinning, before countering the indirect tactics that Bunny had made painfully evident. "So why are _you_ trying to avoid the subject, mister?"

"I'm _not_," the rabbit rebutted insincerely, running out of plausible excuses, "I just don't want ya to be disappointed when ya realize it's nothin' special."

Toothiana giggled, grinning a coy, girly smile. "Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"_Not helping_," Aster shot her an ungrateful glance.

"Sorry, just saying," she continued to stare knowingly, rising and falling diagonally through the space, "I just remember the first time that _I_ saw the E. Aster behind the Bunnymund."

"How could we forget," North erupted with hearty laughter. "Poor Bunny made my poinsettias run for their money," the bearded man chuckled, misplacing the context of the expression like he was always doing, completely unaware, as he nudged the Pooka, "Didn't you old friend?"

"Oh _really_?" Jack inquired. "So much for _nothing special_, cottontail."

"Don't call me that," Aster's head snapped from Jack back to North—from one direction to the other—trying to keep up with the onslaught of opinions prying into his personal life. "And I did _no_ such thing."

"_Oh, yes, you did!"_ the other insisted—watery, wild-flower blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Hopping back and forth unsettlingly, Bunnymund tried in vain to occupy the space, but constantly found himself being pulled in every direction by another retort.

"Yeah, why so modest?" A set of equally transfixing irises encased him fixedly. "Sounds to me like you make _quite_ the impression."

"_Honestly_ guys," his usually confident vocals were faltering beneath the lack of conviction, "you're blowin' it outta proportion—I mean it—I look just as normal as any of you."

Sandy was somewhere off to the side, falsifying this with a declining, shake of the head, catching Jack's gaze long enough to gesture to the double thumbs-up flashing in and out of focus.

"Hey! I saw that little man!" Green eyes grew wide, and shot towards Sandy, who merely replaced the imagery with a widespread smiley-face.

Another giggle escaped Tooth, and she had to clamp her hand over her mouth just to contain them, receiving another pleading look from her fellow friend, and guardian. "Sorry!" she insisted, although remained completely unable to suppress the angle in her smile. "Really! I'm done!"

"_Yeah_, I think I'm gonna take my chances hopsa-lot, " Jack nodded affirmatively. "No way an Easter kangaroo looks anything like a _normal_ human."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm a _bunny_," Aster corrected forcefully.

The younger immortal ignored him with an ever-expanding smile, "not for long," he winked.

"Whatever." The cavalier timing was met with dismissal, unable to mask the resentment as he turned away from the group. "I'll have the place ready by nine…Jack…feel free to stay home…everybody else, you know where to find me."

|8:33 **PM**|

Jack stared as if Tooth was holding some foreign object in her hands. "_Shoes_?" he asked confusedly, scratching the lock of hair behind his ear.

"_Yeah_," Tooth sighed, "I didn't think so," placing them somewhere off to the side as she sat Jack down in front of a large vanity mirror.

|8:35 **PM|**

The scenes projecting through Jack's subconscious from earlier flickered away as the memory reel ran out of film, forcing his attention back towards the twenty-five minutes that separated him from his single, biggest fear.

_Rejection_.

"You don't really think he wont let me in, do you?" he asked Tooth uneasily, recalling the multiple times he'd threatened not to.

"Oh, of course not," she waved a dainty, dismissive hand, hovering around from behind, and fussing with Jack's hair. "Bunny always gets a little too…_sensitive_ around this time of year," she concluded, for a lack of better ways to explain, "You can't take it personally."

"A _little_?" Jack exclaimed, catching a glimpse of Sandy in the mirror, replacing Tooth's understatement with an atomic explosion of dream sand that followed the outlines of big, floppy ears.

As always, even in the absence of sound, the bringer of dreams was silently outspoken—unfailing in the accuracy of imagery that spoke louder than any of them ever could with a voice.

It seemed to Jack that the simplest truths were the one's that went without saying—and perhaps that was why Sandy had mastered it flawlessly, while he himself could hardly survive the crash-course; constantly colliding head first into brick walls whenever his stupid, impulsive mouth shot him straight forward into dead-ends.

Sighing heavily, he felt a nervous pressure pulsate in his chest. He couldn't even help it. He hated it with every bone in his body—and yet he'd waited for this day like most kids wait for Christmas—tearing pages from the calendar eagerly like the red and green links on a construction paper chain. It was constantly getting closer, but always so far away. And the immortal had grown restless.

Up until recently, he'd personally never cared much for New Years; however, a certain force of nature had persuaded him to reconsider-not that he'd ever share this information aloud or willingly of course. To be frank, ever since Jack discovered that it was the one day of the year where Tooth and Bunny embodied their human forms, it became all he could think about.

Allowing E. Aster to steal his thoughts effortlessly.

A small, childlike frown encased the internal expression; sick to his stomach with how much time he'd lost to the daydreams—to the mental portraits, and to the unexplainable desire to see the man behind guardian. Saddened that it was something that held no reciprocation.

A small set of hands rested on his shoulders and Tooth slowed her wings into a steady hover. "I'm serious, don't take it personally, Jack," she observed the boy's declining facial features, "it's not your fault—he's never liked the attention."

And this time Sandy agreed, giving Jack cause to drag the idea deeper into focus, over-speculating this uncharacteristic lack of confidence. "I just don't see how that can possibly be true," the youth said into the reflective surface, watching the lack of understanding dilate vacantly, and eclipse the alternating shades of blue. "_I'm_ the one he doesn't want there," he exhaled, feeling isolated, and just a little misplaced, "Notice how he didn't tell either of _you_ not to show up."

Glancing around undecidedly, the avoidance in the lack of eye contact was evidence enough that she was searching for some surefire way to counteract what was already so painstakingly set in stone.

"We've just known him longer," she stated, "and well—well you know how you get under his skin, Jack."

The boy shrugged, "Yeah, but he knows I'm only messing with him."

"Does he though?" she challenged, not unkindly, but the directness of her words collided with the lack of hesitation that wasn't present in the previous responses, causing his stomach to twist.

"Well yeah," Jack shifted, unsure of how to justify something he really didn't know. "Why wouldn't he?"

Tooth's lack of answers, however, was replaced with Sandy's inexhaustible cache of observations. Taping Jack lightly on the shoulder, he pointed above his head to where a disheveled bed frame sat above a thought bubble; within which flashed smaller images of a staff, a question mark, and a rabbit—over and over in that same order.

Tooth reached forward. "Sandy, _shhh_! It's none of our business," she warned him, as if it would force Jack to omit the following visuals from memory.

A few months ago it may have actually worked too, but a few months ago, Jack would've been able to translate the cryptic meanings no better than North could keep figures of speech straight; but it caught him pleasantly by surprise how quickly he understood.

The important part was remembering that nothing about the sequence was random—from the pictures to their placement—every element was imperative. For instance—the bed meant Pitch—and Pitch meant fear, and since it floated _above_ the rest, that meant it was 'a fear' _over_ _'_a thought'.

Next, focusing in on the remaining hieroglyphs, Jack knew the flashbulbs of pictures within the cloud-like silhouette were meant to signify a combination of ideas into an equation—an equation between Jack and Bunnymund in which the value of the joining variable was missing…

"He's afraid of… what I'll think of him?" Jack asked perplexedly, connecting the dots, but finding no bigger picture coming into focus.

This time, however, Sandy was less forthcoming, withdrawing, and exchanging hesitant, slightly guilty glances with Tooth.

"_What_?" Jack complained.

"It's nothing," she smiled, fanning out one, last section of ghost-like hair before straightening the crooked, jet black tie that had taken him over an hour to even figure out, fussing impatiently as Tooth licked her finger and rubbed away at the smudge on his forehead.

All this coddling was making him feel so small and sheltered though, so young and inadequate that he couldn't help but pull away with his arms crossed, pouting. "You guys never tell me _anything_."

"C'mon, it's ten-till." Amethyst eyes rose to check the clock on the wall after a Sandy pointed to his wrist. "You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?"

"He's probably already _ecstatic_ that I'm not already there," Jack spoke dismissively.

"Well you'll never know if you don't stop thinking about it and go see for yourself, will you?"

He knew she was right, and Jack's shoulders dropped dejectedly with a labored sigh, checking himself over in the mirror when he found his confidences dwindling. He should've felt like a million bucks—but instead found himself adjusting awkwardly to the layers of dress clothes. The combination had been simple—a royal blue button-up, and the standard black suit and tie—and yet, the weight was unfamiliar, and left Jack feeling imbalanced.

Self-conscious.

So, totally, out of his element.

"Maybe Bunnymund's not the only one who's a little nervous," she observed softly, like a parent trying to point out something so painfully obvious to someone with more experience, "but there's nothing to worry about."

Shrinking into himself, offset by how easily she'd exposed his feelings, Jack breathed in with effort, took one last look, shook his head as if to misplace the reflection, and exhaled unconfidently, "If you say so."

|9:15 **PM**|

By the time they'd reached Bunny's warren, North's sleigh was already parked on the far side of the lush greenery—covered in curious egglets. Immediately, the scents of spring filled Jack's nostrils, asphyxiating his sensory, and convoluting his brain.

"I can't do this," he turned around abruptly, halfway down the cobble stone path, "I look stupid, this was stupid, coming here was _stupid_."

However, after an entire flight of listening to similar, empty statements, neither Tooth nor Sandy gave in—refusing to quell the unnecessary outbursts, and taking Jack by the arms, dragging him the rest of the way, despite his constant objections.

"Inconsiderately late, as usual," Aster appeared out of nowhere, hopping up to the trio—eyes drawn down to one in particular.

Jack met the indistinguishable eyes fixed over him, but failed to uphold the contact for more than a moment before swallowing. Averting his own to the ground, trying to look enamored with the dozens of little egglets scurrying beneath his feet.

"How did you know we were here?" Tooth asked surprised, fluttering into a friendly embrace.

"Are ya kiddin'?" A pair of long, thin, grayish ears flinched and folded over in Jack's direction. "You can hear frostbite complaining from a mile away," Bunny rolled his eyes, but there was more humor in his voice than spite this time.

"_Hah-hah_," Jack retorted evenly, "And for your information, I wasn't complaining from a mile away."

"No, just tha last fifteen feet," Bunny straightened out, stopping to look back over his shoulder in amusement, having already heard every word.

Catching up with the distance Aster had put between them, Jack chose to abandon his shyness, and secure the lead instead, stepping a few feet ahead. "Awe, have you been waiting for me?"

Emerald eyes narrowed around the self-satisfied glance shot in passing, proceeding to follow, "Didn't wanna give ya the element of surprise is all."

"Why not?" Jack pulled his shoulders into his ears with an unaffected shrug, eyes falling over the length of the other in his usual form, "It's not like there's anything to look at yet."

"If you're expectin' me ta feel bad about that—think again, mate," a colder tone met the even colder auditory canals of the winter reincarnate, unaware that Jack had anything ulterior up his sleeve. "Not all of us like to showcase our personal lives so carelessly."

"That's right," a pale, slender neck slipped into a steady nod, his fingers shuffling into pants pockets. "I forgot, you only like to _hide_ things."

|9:25 **PM**|

If Bunnymund said anything else, Jack was already too far ahead to have heard—knowing he was bound to lose that round too if he stuck around long enough to let his big, stupid mouth open again.

_That was always the trouble wasn't it?_ Jack thought absently. He was _fast_, but Bunny was _faster_—always thrown into this simultaneous blur of wit and motion—this race against the clock—and although Jack was quick enough to ensue the chase, he knew full well that Bunnymund had the stamina to run circles around him. And he did.

All the banter, and all the slights.

All the chasing, and the running, and the picking fights…

_ It's exhausting,_ Jack sighed to himself, pausing in the dimly lit entryway, knowing that if he had no more than these next few seconds alone, that he needed to use them wisely. Stopping in order to collect and maintain his composure, the reincarnate breathed in deeply, trying to mentally prepare before rendering himself defenselessly to chance.

"It's _just_ New Years," he told himself, fussing over his hair, shaking it back out of place, and into its playfully messy tousle. "It comes _every_ year," he continued to prompt, and then repeat the blatant contradictory phrases aloud in order to instill their validity. "This year is no different."

However, the inability to swallow something too bittersweet to sugarcoat, was forcing Jack's smooth, routine motions to grow choppy and disjoining. Frantically tucking and un-tucking his shirt undecidedly, he could feel himself derailing under the pretext of failing to lay down enough track.

Enough preplanning to coast along smoothly after a certain six-foot, mass of gray, blue, and white fur had uprooted all the terrain, and then swallowed it deep within a labyrinth of dead ends and darkness. The grounds on which Jack could not stand—the authority over the ebb and flow of his reality that the other secured without effort, and that'd he'd lost all sight of.

All meaning had escaped him since becoming a guardian—since he'd allowed the other's beyond the wall he'd spent a lifetime building up around him like a barricade. Since he'd realized seconds too late that one, E. Aster Bunnymund, had slipped beneath it before anyone else could even get half way up the side.

Jack couldn't explain it, but somehow he always felt so exposed around his friendly adversary—like no matter how visible he was on the surface—that the other always saw right through him.

This backwards, mind-fuck-of-a-way that he could read Jack like a book without caring enough to flip through the pages first. This eerie, unexplainable way of occupying every chamber of his thoughts, without ever noticing the boy long enough for Jack's to become one of his.

_ It doesn't even make sense,_ Jack scolded his stupidity, and less than objective analysis, realizing that it never would. Anything and everything between them was both complicated, and perfectly clear—creating the worst kind of balance—the kind that couldn't be tipped.

From one extreme to the next, they'd forged all middle ground; and every thought had been over speculated, and soon after lost the importance of becoming a decision. Everything was so balanced that it was backwards, and within the span of a single year—the last person he'd ever expected to effect him—his confidence—his potential—or his ability to survive on his own—had gotten closer to him than anyone else in this lifetime was ever able.

Ironically enough, E. Aster Bunnymund had ridden out the _Blizzard of '68—_only to walk right back into Jack's life, unscathed, and change _everything_.

The thought made it hard to breathe, and there was a space in his chest that had begun to lag after a certain point. After the centripetal palpitations had exhausted the once, involuntary reflex of breathing into a painfully forced motion—devoid of any feeling.

An empty space he'd never known was there—an empty space he needed now, more than ever, to fill…

To know…

"For the _hundredth_ time, Jack, you look _fine_." The sound of Tooth froze him immediately, stiffening his posture, and paralyzing his thoughts. "Honestly," she flew forward to fix his hair—like this was a school dance, and he was waiting nervously for his date to be dropped off—smiling at the sight of her baby all grown up. "Here," she pivoted him towards the full-length mirror, it was nearly seven feet high, and imbedded in the trunk of a tree that grew through the house. "See? Look how handsome you look."

Ungodly embarrassed, Jack's cheeks began to flood with frozen shades of blue, crystallizing the embarrassment noticeably across the bridge of his nose.

"Doesn't he look handsome?" She turned to the other two, leaving them no more than a five second window to respond, _"Bunny,_ tell Jack he looks nice."

The pallor boy's eyes shot open. "No!" He exclaimed, sucking in a sharp gust of air after catching a glimpse of Aster in the reflection—head cocked to the side—eyes momentarily falling over the length of his body before the sprite's shrill reverberation of protest broke his focus, and forced his gaze to find its way into Jack's.

The Pooka's head was still at a slight angle, but his eyebrows rose as he drew closer, towering over the other. "Relax, mate," Bunny peered down, "I don't bite," he spoke calmly, instinctively unable to stand the sight of snow beginning to form over the pale head of hair.

Then the elder's voice started to drop almost inaudibly, and the soft sensation of fur curved over Jack's shoulder. Simultaneously, seeing this as some sort of sign, Sandy began pushing Tooth quietly out the door, ushering them both away from a moment that they weren't meant to share.

Which, to be honest, only made the immortal's heart pound, and his knees buckle, and the snow to fall faster.

"Don't be so embarrassed," a reassuring voice whispered, while Bunny dusted the flakes from his hair and clothing, knowing all too well how much the younger boy despised how easily his one true, ability betrayed him. "You're going to bury yourself."

"What's it to _you_?" Jack pulled away, flinching at the soft-spoken sounds, and the unusually personal shift in contact.

"Nothin' really," the other shrugged, "you can do as ya' please. Jus sayin'... it might be a shame since she's right," Aster offered, taking one last, casual glance, "You clean up pretty good, frostbite."

|9:47 **PM**|

Unable to retrace any conceivable memory of how he'd ever found his feet to follow Bunny in the first place, the next time Jack came out of the surreal, dream-like motion—North was crushing him in a bear hug.

"Look at you!" he exclaimed, setting the winter sprite back on the ground with a hearty slap, "No more _capris!"_

Bunnymund snorted, so unexpectedly that he spit back out a mouthful of scotch.

"See?" North pointed back, misinterpreting the reaction, "Even bunny notices—must be looking pretty sharp, no?"

"_Heh_," Jack released a nervous laugh, wanting nothing more than to apologize profusely to Bunny now for putting him through a similar hell earlier that morning, burning up under the spotlight of everyone observing his person.

Aster only seemed to read his mind though, whispering in passing as the teen slipped across the room, "Not so funny anymore, is it, big shot?"

"No," Jack sighed, lulled into a temporary bought of normalcy, "You have my _sincerest_ apologies."

"Whoa-whoa-wait a tick," Bunnymund interjected, "And just what do you think _you're_ doing?"

Jack's hand retracted from the rather impressive assortment of percentages and proofs. "_Really_?" he asked with wide eyes, and then an even stare, "You're going to pull this on _today_ of all days?"

"Well, jus cause ya throw on a suit and tie doesn't mean ya can jus walk into tha bar, mate." Bunny began to speak in misplaced metaphors, stiffening undecidedly, and feeling just a little sad on the inside—but he'd never let any of _them_ see that—not for what it was—continuing to surround Jack like an after school special instead.

"Oh, lighten up, Bunnymund, do not murder the party," North _tsk'd_, swishing his own glass of clear liquid around in his hand. "Let him have a drink, today is celebration—not random day at two in the afternoon," he rationalized, "_that_ is when you can start to worry. He just wants to have good time is all."

_"Yeah,_ Bunny," Jack chorused, drawing his vocals into a whiney pout, "I just wanna have a little_ fun_."

"Okay, first of all," Bunnymund gestured from North back to himself, "It's my party—and I'll kill it if I want to. And _yes_, I just said that. Second of all," he pivoted to the left, "That was _maybe_ the creepiest thing you have ever said to me…so _please_…never do it again."

"Sooo…." Jack trailed off, leaning into his staff, "about that whole drinking thing…"

"Why do you _need_ a drink?" Bunny demanded authoritatively, "I don't need you puking up slush all over my warren on some _guardians gone wild_ bullshit," his eyes narrowed skeptically with the unusual curse. "I mean, have you ever even _been_ drunk before?"

"_Bunny,_" Jack stated calmly, like the moment before you explain to your parents that you haven't been six for like twelve years now. "I've been eighteen for over _three hundred years, _and I'm _invisible_…was that really even a question?"

"Fine, _here,_" lanky ears perked back up, but the pale teen wasn't sure what it meant when Aster stood at his full height, shoving the glass into Jack's hand, "if you're so experienced, _take it," _he said with a little snap. "But don't come cryin' to me when you start getting' all sick, ya hear?"

Rather than lash back, Jack drew the glass up to a devilish smirk. "_Cheers_," he nodded, swallowing the scotch in two, smooth motions. Pulling his lips away slowly, he released a satisfied breath, causing the other to stare back in blank fascination as he handed back the empty glass with a grin, "Hope you like carrots."

|10:35 **PM**|

The music was just loud enough that the base was causing the floor to hum softly beneath the added pressure of North's tumultuous footsteps. No one had secured completely stable levels—and everyone was their own shade of drunk. Jack, himself, seeking solace in the baby sips of scotch, like little shots of liquid courage, _a__nd more than worth the burn_, he thought, draining the contents of the glass, and polishing off his second helping as quickly as any eighteen year old would. Leaving no room for moderation.

_Thank MiM for cultural differences,_ he sighed in relief—highly appreciative of the Russian for encouraging him to engage with them like adults; especially after Bunnymund had never made him feel more like a child. A small, unknowing, fragile little thing, whose lack of experience prevented him from making informed decisions.

It was true that he wasn't "legally" of the age; _b__ut age is just a number, _he thought as his lips pulled upward, savoring the burning sensation that swelled in his stomach—radiating an unprecedented warmth throughout his limbs, and causing just the slightest tingle. Almost numbing, but it felt good, like friction casting sparks, little flares of warmth...He liked the warmth—the tangibility—the heated sensations that melted the restraints of propensity and preposition from his joints—freeing him of his shackles—from the frozen tundra that was his life—the world that suddenly felt so sad, and lonely in comparison to a place like this.

He wanted it. That sense of completion.

The magnetism seemed misplaced, contradicting almost everything he stood for, but opposites had never stopped attracting for Jack—and neither had the allure of such an innocent desire to experience the things in life that never came as easy naturally. So he drown himself in everything he wasn't, and hoped that no one else would notice he'd gone overboard; allowing him to sink deep into the heart of darkness—silently and undetected—almost frozen. Always interchanging and trading its form, in many ways, heat was a lot like coldness. In moderation it was tolerable, and almost pleasant; but in excess, both were overwhelming. Whether it was below zero, or breaking a hundred, if you got too close to either degree of extreme—they burned.

They were opposites that conjoined to create a sense of equality as a whole, a sort of elemental equilibrium, like frostbite and blisters—freezer burn and heat rashes—producing an indiscernibly balanced sensation in which fire and ice have lost designation—it set in skin deep and then sank into your stomach—just like the alcohol was doing now. Taking him over. Consuming him. Overpowering his inhibitions, and poisoning him so peacefully that Jack confused drowning with floating, sinking slowly as he lapped in the shallow pools of the dark, and strangely calming elixir.

Effective almost immediately, the dissolution of forty-proof into his blood stream was triggering a fast-forward metamorphosis that matured Jack's audacity on contact; and before his brain could register the action, he was walking up to Bunny with his confidence in full strut.

"Why aren't you dancing?" A soft, curious expression emitted the ghost-haired youth, providing inference as baby-blue orbs strayed to the side, over to where Sandy was twirling Tooth in circles, and North's boots stomped crudely with the sounds, hollering as he slapped his knee.

"'Cause I don't dance," Aster summarized, staring at his half-empty glass, and stirring the substance disinterestedly.

He took a step closer, "Sorry, but that answers already been taken by the rest of the world," his eyes rolled playfully. "Seriously, if you asked a room full of people that same question, most of them would give that same answer." Jack's vocals dropped coaxingly, "Are you going to try and tell me that _E. Aster Bunnymund_ is _most people_?"

"What kinda' angle you workin' frostbite?" The elder's eyebrow rose, and emerald stained irises refocused speculatively.

"No angle," soft strands shook as Jack's head moved slowly in either direction, "just an observation."

"And what, _pray tell_, was so persuasive about my not dancing that you felt the need to turn my peace and quiet into twenty questions?" Bunny asked, propping both his arms against his waist, leaning forward, "_Huh?_"

Jack peered up innocently, "…it's just that you're not having any fun, that's all."

Eyebrows furrowed unconvinced, and hesitation caused Bunny to accept another sip of scotch before accepting Jack's answer. "It's my party," he shrugged, "playing host means I have to keep my wits about me; and besides, what concern is it of _yours_ whether or not I enjoy myself?"

"Seriously?" Jack waited for Bunny to catch up, gesturing noticeably to himself, "Guardian of _Fun?_" he prompted. "It's _kind of_ my thing, remember?"

"Well it's a' holiday," Aster widened his eyes sarcastically. "Take the night off."

"Oh, no, no," the older male's dismissal was met with a condescending smirk, "unlike you _tie-a-bow-ben-bunny_, my work's never done." Blue eyes met the other's heightened gaze tauntingly, "Not all of us go out of season, y'know."

"Easy there snowstorm, don't get yourself all riled up," Bunny warned, "'Cause it isn't gonna' work." Another sip and a substantiating nod, "No matter how many scattered flurries you toss around."

"Well why _not!_" the youth exhaled, crossing his arms in a stubborn, and undeniably adorable pout.

Emerald eyes readjusted, tapering off at the sight of colorless lips pursing unfamiliarly and flushed, almost flesh colored where they pressed together in displeasure.

"I already told ya', Frost, I _don't_ dance," Bunny reiterated after his focus was overthrown by a lack of expectancy. "I _can't_ dance," he rephrased, discrediting all conviction as his body language started slipping uncertainly in slightly offset shifts the longer he looked.

"Well I find that very hard to believe," Jack reached up, never pausing to process hesitation, rubbing the soft gray and white fur between his thumb and forefinger. "With ears like these?" he glanced up, releasing one of Bunny's, "there's _no __**way**_ that you can't follow a beat."

The contact thickened the alcohol in Bunnymund's stomach, making it feel heavy and nauseating, and hard to play off when the perpetually determined sprite continued to pull at him, gathering up rolls of fur between the small spaces in his fingers.

"I can follow it quite fine," he cleared his throat, taking a sip immediately because it felt so dry and ready to crack; unnerved when it was his last. "It's the whole moving 'with it' that I'm no good at," Aster clarified, turning to discard the empty glass, "and I'm not _nearly_ drunk enough to start trying."

Jack reached forward gingerly, baby blue-eyes watching the lengths of his arms as they moved to the sides of Bunny's. "Now I _know_ you're not telling innocent, little, old _me_ that you can't dance unless you have _alcohol_," he prompted, engaging the mirroring glance— meeting green eyes the moment his palms flattened along the elder's tattooed biceps, loosely enveloping their circumferences, "because then that wholesome, _example_ you set for me would all be for nothing, and honestly, what kind of guardian would y—."

"—I caught the drift," the other interrupted, shimmying his shoulders to release himself from the teen's grip. "But I'm not running your little guilt trip anywhere but into the ground, got that?"

"How can you catch something that I never threw?" Jack asked, continuing to taunt and tease, ignoring the other's shakes and shoves to let his hands slide down the bent, slopes of fur until they secured to the other's wrists like several strings. "Because if you're seeing things Bunny, then a breathalyzer might be in order," the boy teased. "Unless you cooperate," he offered, moving the limp appendages in jaunty, lighthearted motions, "In that case, I think maybe I can make an exception."

"All this coming from _barely-legal_?" Aster's head tipped downward, motioning to Jack with disbelief, "You should be grateful I'm still lettin' you piss away my best scotch, cumulonimbus."

"How many times have I told you," Jack insisted, shaking his head, " '_cumulonimbus'_, does _not_ work for a nickname," he said disapprovingly, pulling down lightly on Bunny's forearms.

Forcing his weight to shift forward, the boy's words put Aster on his toes, tipping the force of balance when gravity challenged it. "Stop changing the subject," he scolded, initiating another incomplete attempt to take back his arms.

"Stop fighting the music!" Jack threw back in his face with a laugh, pushing Bunny's wrists forward this time, rocking the other's body back and forth with his own.

"_Frost!" _

"_Bunny_," he repeated, gathering up his shoulders in anticipation, rolling them into a shimmy, "_C'mon_, you _know_ you _wannaaa_."

"Don't," Aster warned, watching the other winding up; trapped in the corner as he tried to take a step back, but found the table preventing his escape. "I'm serious."

"_C'mon_, Bunny_,_" Jack called to him as if he were dog, pumping their arms out of sync with the fast-pace rhythm, losing fluidity under the deadweight of uncooperative limbs hanging lifelessly in his grasp, "_C'monnnn!"_

This time, the other's face fell evenly, clearly unimpressed with Jack's shimmying, cocking to the side as it shook pitifully, "Oh _no_, mate."

"Oh, _yes_," the younger immortal corrected, putting more force into the pull forward than he had before, substituting the strength he couldn't meet his words with. _"Dance with meee_," Jack whined, giving no more than a second of pause, "you're the only one who wont."

"Really? And who else did you ask?" the other implored, gesturing towards their fellow guardians. "What about North?" he suggested, "Looks to me like you could be of better use to him than me right a' bout now."

"I don't _want_ to dance with North," Jack stepped forward, forgetting himself as his lips lost reluctance, closing the space between them with a quizzical smirk, "Or are you too drunk to remember that it's _you_ who I'm asking?"

"Oh, _dance_ with him Bunny," Tooth twirled by, catching an earful of their conversation as Sandy followed with corresponding depictions of approval.

"Yes!" North joined in, taking a hearty swig, sloshing his glass around carelessly as he clapped along, "Dance because there is no tomorrow!"

Bunnymund rolled his eyes, not bothering to point out the correct phrasing, because he was too busy sinking down in defeat. "_Fine_," he exhaled gruffly, stomaching his pride as he readied his surrender, "_One_ dance."

However, the rabbit had been moving so slowly that his over-active auditory canals had somehow missed the music beginning to soften in sync with his breathing, causing Jack to grin and Bunny to glare.

"_Nice going_," he mumbled down at the sprite, visibly discontent as the small, tentative hop brought him closer with a soft _thump_. Almost immediately, the selection faded from raw, throbbing base, and into tender, delicate intonations that made Bunny's ears flatten.

"Now, _really, _was that so hard?" Jack mused, feigning confidence as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the other's shoulders—heart beginning to beat skittishly as the winter reincarnate awaited the soft pressure of paws to return the gesture.

Reluctantly, Bunny followed the boy's initiative with stiff, uncomfortable movements. Hesitating forward with all eyes on him, he secured an undecided handhold, stopping somewhere way too high above Jack's hips, and almost half way up his waist.

"You're doing it all wrong," Tooth interjected, and the fleeting impressions disappeared when she flew forward and removed them from Jack's stomach.

The Pooka's shoulders lowered even further. "_Come on_," he complained, too out of his element to try and take his hands back from a second hijacker.

"You're not supposed to look like you'd rather _kill_ _yourself_," she rationalized, glancing sternly between them as the sarcastic subtleties transpired behind prismatic, purple eyes and met Bunny's. "You're holding _Jack_, Aster—not Christmas," she pointed out softly, resting both paws against the slender, protruding slopes of hipbones, leaving them warily around the other's nervous waist. "And _you're_ supposed to move _with_ Bunny," the fairy pivoted to Jack with the restless beating of wings, "not leapfrog right over him," she insisted, prying up his fingertips from the warrior's broad, able shoulders.

Jack felt the wavering grip around his midsection grow more stable, easing his weight into their grasp as Tooth replaced his arms around Bunny's neck—forcing the Australian to support the other's body as it was pulled into his chest.

"_Oh to hell with this,"_ Bunnymund shook his head abruptly, untangling their proportions, and stepping back with both hands risen between their chests like a force-field, "too bloody complicated for one, stupid dance."

The immortal's face fell just enough for Sandy to catch the boy's unspoken disappointment with a frown. Choosing, even in his unfailing silence, not to state the obvious, he blocked Bunny's way with a simple, stern cross of the arms, and a soundless stare.

Still thumping and pounding irregularly, Jack could feel his heart continue to slam against his chest in nervous, shallow beats. The alcohol was a way to take his mind off the pressure, but the attention it'd drawn to them was unforgiveable. Asking Bunny to dance had been difficult enough, not to mention questionable, and now that everybody knew, it was becoming more and more prone to speculation. The up-close, invasive kind of scrutiny that they didn't have the time or the proximity for right now; and Jack almost gave up on trying to go through with it altogether before seeing Bunny's stomach go concave, dropping his upper body lifelessly into itself when there wasn't even dream sand there to argue with.

"…I hate New Years," Aster sighed, sucking in a sharp, deep breath of air before turning back to the younger boy.

Jack's hands traveled upward, slinking around the Pooka's neck as he pushed his toes against the floor again, pulling forward in a whisper, "it hates you too."

"This is embarrassing," Bunny mumbled under his breath, staring reflexively at the ground when the space between their chests shrank, stumbling closer after a gentle shove from Sandy sent both paws back to the other's hips with a self-deprecating sigh, "so _ungodly_ embarrassing."

"No, mate," Jack shook his head, revealing a shy smile, and even shyer eyes that sparkled and pooled, "It's _adorable_."

|10:55 **PM**|

Bunnymund looked unsure of whether or not he wanted to smile, deciding to concentrate on their out of sync strides instead of their strained eye contact, or lack there of, tracing the motions of their feet falling clumsily off step in an uncoordinated shuffle.

"It's three steps," he offered suddenly, and unexpectedly—temporarily pressing the small of the other's back lightly with his paw. "_One, two, three—_turn," he pivoted, "_one, two, three—_turn."

Out of sheer surprise, Jack allowed his body to be pushed and prompted—tripping and stumbling as he watched their steps in attempts to follow Bunny's lead. They were stepping all over each other though, and although the alcohol provided the audacity to initiate—it lacked the security to uphold the contact. In his defense, Jack hadn't been counting on the slow song—or the radio to betray his initial subtleties—but it became instantaneously undeniable that the lessening proximity made the exchange seem more intimate than it really was.

Not that he minded.

In truth, his only objective had been to draw the other out of solitude—and so drawing the tall, bouffant chest of fur closer into his own was purely a bonus. Unexpected, but unavoidable. Once the other's had become involved and incited the interaction accordingly—they'd revoked any opportunity for either to get out of going through with it.

It started out so innocently—without double motive or even thought—just a shy, flustered endeavor that Jack thought was going nowhere right before it brought them chest to chest, leaving both guardians in unprecedented silence.

"Your feet are too big," the ghost-haired boy complained, growing insecure when their mouths refused to speak, and their feet continued to falter.

Bunny scowled, "Are not—you just can't _follow_," he insisted, staring fixedly at the uncoordinated movements as well.

"Follow?" Jack repeated, "Y'mean—the person who _supposedly_ doesn't dance?"

"Oh, bite me," Bunny shook his head, pausing momentarily to note the increasing frustration collect and cloud in the boy's focus.

"No thanks," pale lips mumbled, too concentrated for sassy retorts. The song was almost over, and his heart was beginning to constrict at the thought that he'd wasted it.

Sighing, breathing in deeply with an almost parental release, Bunnymund paused, always so internally conflicted over the other boy's happiness. "C'mon now," he squeezed gently. "There's no use cryin' over spilled milk," the Australian soothed the worried looks, lifting Jack by the waist, just enough to ease his left foot beneath the smaller, shoeless one in front of it. "Better?" Bunny asked, repeating, shuffling Jack's feet on top of his own, "Don't worry, I'll take it from here, frostbite."

Curling inward, the winter sprite felt the soft brush of fur between his toes, and both hands slid down to the other's shoulders as he wobbled unsteadily. "You're sure I'm not too heavy?" Jack asked suddenly, adjusting self-consciously to find his footing when Bunny began taking baby steps.

"Oh yea," Aster grinned for the first time, "you're right," he nodded, slowly tucking his paws behind the small of the boy's back to keep him steady. "All ten ounces of you is _killing_ me, we should probably switch it up."

"No," Jack stammered, his fingers involuntarily furrowing into the other's fur at the sight of withdraw.

A soft smile spread expansively across the elder's features, and his nose twitched with a knowing grin. "_Shh_, hush now," Bunny spoke gently, continuing to lift each foot slowly, easing into more graceful strides as he felt Jack's hands steady and lock around his neck, "See? I'm not going anywhere that you're not going."

"Is that a promise?" Jack smiled, his lips upturning genuinely as he watched their feet moving as one, locking one hand around his wrist, and leaning against the paw pressed into the curve of his back. "Or are you secretly just going to ignore me again afterwards?"

One paw retracted long enough to gesture, "Cross my heart and hope to die," Bunny grinned, completely taken with the adorable set of eyes widening hopefully across from him.

"Stick a needle in your eye!" Jack began to beam, the alcohol visibly flushing in warmer shades of blue across his face as he smiled with a mouthful of perfect teeth.

"Happy?" Bunny asked as the music began to drift in and out of focus, unable to suppress the instinctive impulse to nudge the mess of ghost-white hair affectionately with his nose, "Now you're stuck with me, Frost."

|11:32 **PM**|

There was less than half an hour left, and way less than half a bottle of scotch sitting on the table, surrounded by the vanishing levels of vodka that North had been nursing throughout the night.

"Silly, Bunnymund," the large man waved away concern like an incessant gnat, "There is no such thing as _too much_ _vodka_ when you are Russian, I can drink like fish, no problem."

"Yeah," Jack shook his head in unison, feeling at least three quarters drunker than he had before, "_Silly, Bunnymund._"

"Silly, Bunnymund?" Aster echoed, gesturing from himself, outwardly, towards the younger boy, "Try lookin' at yourself mister _Jack be nimble, Jack be quick_, cause I'd say _Jack's drinking tolerance, is clearly worth shit!_" he finished in sarcastic sing-song.

"You really wanna pull out the nursery rhythms and go _Hans Christian Anderson_ on this one?" Jack leaned forward provokingly to accept the challenge. "Okay then _little, bunny-foo-foo, hopping through the forest— halfway through the bottle, and you already start to wobble."_

Pausing to absorb the counter attack with a lack of amusement, Bunny's face fell only long enough for him to hop forward stubbornly, and ensue the antics. "_Little Jack __**Horror**__, sat in the corner, swallowing his stupid scotch," _he began condescendingly, "_he poured another glass, and fell straight on his ass, saying 'oh what an idiot am I!"_

"_Here comes Peter Cottontail—oh, but what an epic __**fail**__,_" Jack shouted back, "_Wannabe, honestly, probably, possibly—the kangaroo failed to drink responsibly…"_

North was standing only centimeters off to the side with a blank, drunken stare that kept widening with every word. "Just find the mistletoe and get over it," he belted out laughing, "you sound like old, married couple singing children's songs."

Both Guardians froze in mid-motion, Bunny with his mouth agape, closing rather quickly, as Jack's raised hand sank down by his side, rendering them both speechless.

Rather than fight it and provoke an aftershock of epic proportion, Aster chose to swallow and be the bigger person instead, knowing all too well that nights would be ruined, and feelings were bound to get hurt. " 'Suppose we both sound a little in tha' bottle," he cracked a smile, glancing from Jack to North, "but I'm waitin' for marriage, mate," Bunny waved off humorously, "so I'll have to pass on the mistletoe."

"_Marriage_?" Jack echoed loud and boisterously, "And exactly, how many other giant, lady kangaroos have _you_ seen in the last century?" he asked sarcastically, "I must have missed that."

"_Annnd," _Bunny extended his vocals, "you ruined it…" he trailed off, rolling his eyes in sync.

"Oh sure, blame _me_ for your badly told joke," the winter sprite summerized outlandishly, his speech patterns falling into the slightest slur as they exchanged dialogue playfully. "Cause _that_ makes sense."

"You're really makin' me wanna break that promise, frostbite," the Pooka warned, looking up from the levels of scotch as he topped off his glass generously.

Jack handed Bunny his own in response, never phased by the flat, even look the action was received with because his drink was replenished regardless. "But then you'd have to stick a needle in your eye," Jack speculated pityingly, "and that would be _messy_."

Emerald eyes rolled, "It would be a lot more than messy smart ass."

"Language!" Tooth interrupted, scolding the onset of curse words, "I swear it isn't enough to ruin your teeth with that stuff, but you've all got to turn into truckers too!" she exclaimed, hovering busily from diagonal to diagonal.

Sandy chuckled soundlessly, pumping his arm in a fist as a disjoining horn appeared in dream sand, emitting flashes of sound.

"Sandy," she scolded, "you're slurring!"

"Yeah, easy on the dream sand lightweight," Aster tipped his head humorously, "don't drink and sign, Sandman."

The little golden man rolled his eyes lightheartedly, continuing to sip the spiked sand as he hovered at eyelevel in his cloud.

"Hey, Sandy's a champ," Jack stepped forward, resting his hand on the smaller guardian's shoulder, "You drink as much as you want," the boy doted.

"Do not drink too much friend," North prepared his toast with the proper balance of ice and vodka, "midnight is nearly upon us!"

The alcohol slid down Jack's throat with ease, waiting long enough for it to hit his stomach before cheering, and chanting at increasing volumes, "_Naked-Skin! Naked-Skin!"_

"Regular-skin, regular-skin," Bunny mimicked obnoxiously for effect, overriding the other's outburst. "_Not_ naked. Fully _clothed_."

Jack rubbed his chin in thought, staring upward into space with mock deliberation, "Or so you _say_," his voice lingered doubtfully.

"I do," Aster repeated, nodding, and treating Jack as if he were a five year old, "I _do_ say."

"_Do_ say all you want," Tooth interrupted, lingering nervously in the space, her hardly alcoholic beverage occupying skittish fingers, "but unless you really _do_ want to be naked, then you'd better do it in your room."

Bunny glanced up. "What?" he asked, eyes traveling to the egg-shaped clock carved into the wall immediately after the question fled his lips. "Oh crap," he hopped nervously—first to the table to pour a splash of scotch into his glass—then back between the guardians, glancing at Jack like a deer caught in headlights—wide eyed and terrified before shaking his head and proceeding towards the hall. "Well wish me luck," he flicked his paw, nodding to Tooth has the second hand struck 11:57, "_S__afe-changing _T."

"You too!" she called out, fluttering downward in 'z' shaped incline before glancing hurriedly around for the small bag of clothing she'd brought along.

"Catch!" Jack shouted, tossing the object in her direction.

She secured it with relative ease and moderately low spillage, beating her wings rapidly as she buzzed towards the route Bunny had taken moments earlier, "See you guys in the New Year!" she sang excitedly, gripping the parcel to her chest as she disappeared.

|11:59 **PM**|

Their voices rose in unison, all except for Sandy who signed the countdown sloppily in slurs of amber colored sand, "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…"

"Happy New Years!" North broke off, thrusting his thick, burly arms into the air at the same time a barrage of two-toned confetti exploded above the sandman's head, floating down like a fading firework that dissolved against his shimmery silhouette.

"One whole year of guardianship down," Jack clanked their glasses in a celebratory shot, already drunk enough off the atmosphere, "and an eternity to go!"

"We do how they say and make life into work," North agreed, meaning more simply that their work became their life upon joining _Mim's_ elite, mythical guardians.

Forming several hands overhead, Sandy displayed one palm facing upward as the other folded into a fist with the thumb extended vertically, making slight circular motions before bringing it down against the open hand beneath it.

Jack grinned, "Amen is right _Zz-Man_," he replied half-heartedly, eyes becoming distracted with the empty archway across the room—the mass of support beams and empty space that isolated them from the unveiling.

He was so excited that it was nearly bursting through his chest, nervous at the same time as his palms began to sweat, and his line of vision blurred in rapid, frantic movements between focal points. North noticed almost instantaneously, seeing Jack's anticipation like it was rising off his skin in clouds of steam, growing more bold with the addition of truth serum in his blood stream, "You are excited to see Bunnymund with out the Bunny," he proposed coaxingly, "just make sure to keep eyes in head my little _golubchik_, we do not need anyone stealing them."

Jack rolled his eyes as a pair of eyelash batting, googly ones came at him from Sandy's direction. "No one's stealing my eyes," he rationalized, even though he knew the precaution was figurative; growing less certain when he, himself, was half convinced he'd need a leash to keep them from falling out of their sockets in search of his unparalleled, New Year's resolution.

_To try new things,_ his lips formed a mischievous smile that only darkened beneath his straying intentions—getting swept away in the sweet, dream-like motions of thought that framed the scenarios together so seamlessly that you'd swear it was canon.

God, he'd really lost it. He _really_ had gone empty-headed—letting the smooth, flawless finish of perfectly circular spheres slip from his brain, and onto the floor with stunted clanks and deep, heavy bounces—misplacing his marbles as his mentality shrank, and reduced him into a mono-manic—completely obsessed with one, singular idea.

Bunny.

_Human_ Bunny.

|12:05 **AM|**

_Thumpthumpthump._ The cardiac collisions in his breast began overlapping and outpacing each other, outsourcing the onset of anxiety with alcohol as pale lips sipped the concoction greedily, tapping his fingers in miscellaneous rhythms against the glass to keep himself busy. _Thumpthumpthump._

_*CreeeEEEEeeeaaak*_

The thumps went slow and irregular, faltering from their fast-pace, and into barely detectable palpitations, pumping shallowly as Jack's ears twitched like Bunny's did at the faintest signs of life.

_*CrEEEaaaAAAk*_

Now he was hardly sure if his heart was beating slowly, or beating at all, holding his breath deep in his lungs as he listened to the sound waves crash more closely—their reverberating rings swallowing the distance in a ripple-effect of creaking and groaning—beginning to outpace his eardrums and overlap the echoes—bracing himself as the pitter-patter grew heavier against the hardwood floor.

Someone was coming.

**-.-.-.-**

**Hope this is enjoyable so far.**

**********Sorry most of the guilty pleasure scenes are coming next**

**Reviews appreciated;**

******:)**

**I'll post the second part whenever I finish it;**

**hopefully soon[er than later].**


	2. Part II of III

**_OKAY; so first of all, my deepest and sincerest apologies for the fact I'm an asshole who takes way too long to update sometimes lol. SECOND of all; this 'two shot' has just become a 'three shot' because I'm STILL an asshole who takes too long to update in complete, contributions. _**

**_*Sigh* I suppose it can't be helped. _**

**_This middle part moves sort of randomly and fast, but I guess I was just taking into account that they're all drunk and supposed to be over thinking everything while at the same time not thinking at all; thus, backing them into conflicting corners of thought and inaction. blahblahblah._**

**_Part of me still isn't sure I should be posting it, and the other half is so sick and tired of re-reading and re-arranging the same set of scenes that I can't stand to look at it anymore lol; but all in all, I think it turned out okay. Oh yeah, and please ignore the fact that the time-frames in which all this stuff happens is so ridiculously unrealistic haha; but so are dead kids and giant rabbits potentially wanting to fuck each others brains out. So, fair enough, I suppose._**

**_Speaking of which, seeing as though this was somewhat a 'plot-developing' portion, I tried to include as much rewarding material as possible before the third, and final installment delivers the real 'climax'...teehee, such a shamelessly, terrible play on words._**

**_ANWAYS; I need to shut up, as I so frequently do. _**

**_SO__ ON TO COMMENT REVIEWS!_**

_**Every1's Beta: **First and foremost, thank you so much for being the first person to leave a review on this fic! As I mentioned, it's a pairing I usually only entertain in my head, and not in writing; so the support, as well as the HELLYEAH moment when I saw the number '1' under my review column, were RIDICULOUSLY appreciated. Hopefully you enjoy the second installment, and don't hate me too much for making you wait for a third!_

**_TheGodlessAngelOfDarkness: _**_Oh, yes, I am known to be quite the tease-okay, bad, terrible joke, but I am definitely a sucker for cliff-hangers and drawing things out tortuously. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for putting up with that COUGH and taking the bait COUGH. Also, again, apologies for the long ass wait, and the fact it's not over, but I hope this update is to your satisfaction lol and that you stick around for the grand finale. _

**_storygirl99210:_**_Short and sweet-you must teach me how to write things in this fashion XD I find myself constantly over-explaining-as you've probably noticed from this failure of a one-shot turned three-part-trilogy-shot. *Sigh* ANYWAYS, thank you for the review, and the all-caps 'awesome' you gave the first part-always a definite plus! I hope you wind up checking back in to read the rest, and that it earns just as 'awesome' as a review as last time. _

**_9aza:_**_ Lol interesting has the potential to be good, and or bad, buuuut I'm going to take it as a compliment XD seeing as I'm too goddamn bipolar to do anything in a normal fashion. Ahh, YESSS, so glad you pointed out the dancing scene/slash children's rhymes, because they were like my favorite parts. Something about Jack standing on Bunny's feet to dance just melted my heart haha, and then I spontaneously dove into rhyme scenes because I do, so very much, love to rhyme nonsensically. ANYWHO; glad the build up was effective, sorry that this is a little more of development now, but I tried to make it worth everyone's time. Hope you enjoy, and thanks so much for the review!_

**_Pooka Spirit:_**_ HANDS DOWN; best thing anyone's ever said, just the whole 'boyfriend would never let me live this down' thing, because my friends would NEVER speak to me again if they knew; and currently, my mother has discovered my sister and I's love for this...erm...unconventional pairing...and insists on bringing in the most AWKWARD ways. Like I came downstairs, totally unknowingly, and she's just like, "So, Morgan-do you think Jack and Bunny are gay together?" Causing me to spontaneously die a little inside as I my sister looks at me like 'yup, did the same thing to me ten seconds ago.' Bahah, also, if the 'rereading and editing did wonders' thing refers to the fact that you could tell how many times i resubmitted the document within the span of half an hour, that's ridiculously embarrassing haha, I am quite terrible at catching my own mistakes half the time slash looking over anything before I turn it in. And yeah, thanks lol, I figured it would be called a 'two shot', and NOW it's a 'three-shot' (hopefully that's right lol). ANYWHO; thank you for the review, and also sorry that I flip-flop tenses like crazy (definitely just realized I do that after you pointed it out), but hopefully it doesn't take away from the story itself too much. ENJOY!_

**_Kira the cat:_**_ Lol, DUH, because cliffhangers are secretly the best literary device known to man! Not only do they draw out all that deliciously addictive tension, BUT they always imply that there's even more on the way! At least that's how I try to think about it lol; although I know if I read my own fic I'd probably hate myself for doing it so much. Which makes me even MORE sorry that I'll be doing it again once more. *hides* please don't hold it against me! MOVING ON; thank you so much for your review and for taking an interest in this little-work-in-progress, I hope you end up reading the second half and liking it as much as the first...as well as sticking around for the third, and YES, final. lol_

**_CheshireCatGrin3421: _**_Ahhhhhhhh! There was no way I couldn't start my review to your review in that same exact fashion lol; because I swear re-reading it just made me excited all over again for the fact I'm finally posting the damn thing! Hopefully you're still excited to read it! lol, sorry for the long wait, and the fact it may take a tad bit of time to post the last part as well. REGARDLESS, thank you so much for the review slash support, and I really hope this next part is to your liking! ps: thank you again for the 'AHHH' haha it has given me the energy to finish up my review-reviews!__  
_

**_aquodox: _**_GOD SAVE THE QUEEN; I have finally found someone who appreciates my unnecessary lengthiness! lol hopefully you like it three times over, since this part is about as long as the first part, and the third part will most likely match them in length as well. This part is a little less 'fun' I suppose, and a little more 'emotionally conflicting' but I'm hoping you'll find it every bit as enjoyable in it's own, contrasting sort of way as I delve into the deeper side of things slash set everything up for the good feels. I'm also flattered you thought it was well-written because I'm kiiiinddd of an over-analyzing tweak when I write, and I always worry it's an overbearing style; but again, glad you liked it. Thank you again, and enjoy!_

**_Sora Moto:_**_ OH MY GOD, **YES**; second person to leave a review that comments about the conflict of age slash this unconventional, but equally addicting, pairing. I don't know why it makes me so happy, but I love how everyone involved in this pairing has such a sense of solidarity bahah we're all in this together, and TRUST ME, we've all questioned, requestioned, and then questioned ourselves again. And, after the scenes I will be writing soon, I feel especially dirty; baha, seeing as though I've abandoned actual sex for engaging vicariously through rabbits and dead kids. The world of a fan fiction is a fucked up place *sigh* but it's just as well; I wouldn't have it any other way. ANYWHO, continuing, thanks for the review, thanks for enjoying the fic, and thanks for hopefully sticking around to read the rest!_

**_Cat871:_**_ Yes, I am feeling all the love! And also, I'm glad you thought it was funny, because sometimes when I write stuff, I just sit there wondering, "how weird is this gonna sound to someone else?" Mostly because I write dialogue the way I actually talk, and can't imagine its half as amusing to my readers as it is to me lol. So, hell yeah. And oh god yes do I agree about the angsty combination-twenty one years old and I've never been able to get over my obsession with sassy-angst-filled-banter. ALSO; glad you like my writing style, because I know it's longwinded and over-explanatory, but it's another thing I always hope people will love as much I love writing that way. So thank you kindly, and enjoy part two! Annnd eventually part three if the wait doesn't make you hate it too much XD_

**_oh wow:_**_ jdaljgagaljfg, damn it, the reviews with the 'pleases' always make me feel ten times as shitty for not being able to update faster :( lol but I really, REALLY, did try to post this update a hundred times before, but the writers block was absolutely killing me. HOWEVER, better late than never, right? I just hope I'M not too late to keep furthering your interest in the fic with my lack of punctuality! lol. And god damn it, reading your review is just making me feel so bad I didn't update sooner because it's so gosh darn nice, and there are so many pleases, and just ldknvlsfbsd! Why must you do this to me!? okay, deep breath. THANK YOU; for the ridiculously flattering review, and for reviewing at all, andddd I hope you love part two just as well!_

**_guiltyshipper: _**_-aren't we all? teehee. WELL, good heavens, in that case I hope you have not died yet with all the waiting I've put you through to finally see it! If anything, perhaps I can use it to resuscitate you! lol because the world would be a sad place with one less guilty, jackrabbit shipper like myself to exploit this dirty habit of dead kids and giant rabbits with! AHHH; and oh god, genius? You're really, REALLY, too kind to say such things-I'm merely an over analytical tweak of a writer with too many overlapping thoughts and ideas fighting for representation. bahaha; but hey; I suppose insanity and genius dance on either side of the same line, so thank you so much, that made my day._

_...AHHHH. you commented twice. DAMN YOU. 'super-genius!?' The flattery just keeps making me smile more and more; you're AWESOME. haha. and HELLYEAH, that someone commented on the use of 'cumulonimbus' because when I used that i was like "wow morgan, way to put something really weird and stupid in your fic and hoping its original," haha, so, thank you, for the THOUSANDTH time, and I really hope I don't fail to live up to these high expectations you've set for me! *i'm growing increasingly nervous about the delivery of part two now bahah, it's not quite as clever*_

**_Night-Fury1:_**_ SO, after reading your reaction to the end of part one-I'm about 99% sure I just felt your fist come flying through my computer screen to punch me in the face for my cruel and unusually placed little cliffhanger. And at least 100% sure that if you read part two that it will come back again, but to STRANGLE me this time XD. However, in my defense, I am offering a lot more guilty indulgences in part two than part one-buuut still not as many as will be in part three. SO; hopefully you can put up with me for that long, and that I've evilly drawn you into sticking with the fic! mwahaha! ANYWHO; enjoy part two, or hate me for it; whichever seems fitting lol and thank you again for reviewing!_

**_Lady Minuialwen:_**_ Yourrrrr wish is my...slightly delayed and untimely...COMMAND! lol after way too long, I am happy to say that I've been able to live up to this request! Now, counter wise, I hope that the update can live up to the expectations that have been set! I suppose maybeeee...the fact that it will now be three parts is a...bonus? Or perhaps, just cruel and unusual punishment. *Sigh* I haven't quite decided myself. HOWEVER; thank you for being the final review so on this fic, and for taking an active interest in my one-shot turned three-shot! Definitely hope it continued to capture your interest!_

**_AND WITH THAT BEING SAID; _**

**_PART TWO, ladies and gents and guilty jackrabbit shippers alike._**

**_Please read and review try not to kill me for drawing this out..._**

**_I'm hoping I didn't make the mistake of posting it in thirds :/_**

**_-.-.-.-.-_**

_A One Shot Turned Three __| Part II of III_

|12:10 **AM**|

She was tall, thin, and as graceful as any bird Jack had ever seen, even if her wings had grown disproportionate to the rest of her body, it couldn't possibly take away from her natural aesthetic—appearing smaller and more delicate as they folded motionlessly against her shoulders.

Defining her slender figure, the formfitting fabric was accentuating every curve, clinging tastefully to her hips, and revealing just the slightest amount of cleavage where the neckline plunged. It wasn't slinky, or short, or anything else he thought of when it came to the opposite sex—but it was so simple, that there was something elegant about it.

Something classy.

_"Holy crap, _Tooth_!" _Jack exclaimed as she approached—too awestruck to be disappointed. "You're _**beautiful!**_"

He could hardly believe it was really her—not that he was shallow or insensitive, but when he thought of Tooth, he thought of feathers and little bits of blood and gums—not centerfold-material.

The Tooth standing across from him, however, was _quite_ a different story.

With light blonde hair, almost as light as Jack's, she wore it simply and swept to one side. Cascading down around her neck in a tumble of colors—it must have been at least fifteen inches long—blonde bangs eventually giving way to electric green, streaking into the midsection that framed her face, and then fading gently into iridescent, aqua.

Having already noticed his gawking, the Guardian of Memories simply grinned, shaking her head modestly at the dropped jaw, and making her way across the room to the assortment of liquors.

"Tooth is _always_ beautiful, Jack!" North scoffed, swatting the smaller boy on the head for his unintentional discourteousness.

Rubbing the space, Jack looked up startled, "No, that isn't what I…"

"Seriously, mate—where are your manners?"

|12:17 **AM**|

Instantly, Jack's whole body stiffened—like someone just held a gun to his back and told him to freeze—stomach muscles churning uncertainly as the focus of the room shifted—illuminative auras extinguishing against the pounding of his heart—too afraid to move as the familiar cadence held him at gunpoint.

"Try'n go easy on me this time, will yah?" Bunny asked humorously, receiving no answer. "_MiM_ only knows what'll come outta that mouth's yours next," he chided, partially in good fun, and partially out of nervousness now, "And _honestly,_ mate, I'm a _little_ scared to find out."

Yet, for some reason, the younger boy just couldn't bring himself to face the other way; unnerving the other guardian as he continued to stare, silently, in the opposite direction.

"That is if you ever decide to turn around," Aster finished, or added on, he wasn't sure which anymore—couldn't tell where one thought was ending and another was forming— fidgeting with the unfamiliar articles of clothing as he cleared his throat tentatively.

But Jack remained unmoving.

"You've _definitely still got it,_" Tooth interjected, releasing a sharp whistle, "A couple hundred years later, and you still don't look a day over twenty-five."

"Trus' me," the Australian insisted, "I'm all washed up compared to you, love. As always _T_, you are truly a sight for sore eyes."

"Why thank you," she did a little curtsy, "but I'll not have you spreading your lies," her eyes narrowed playfully, "_You, _Bunnymund, look positively dashing, and it's high time you started accepting that."

Sandy nodded enthusiastically, pretending to hold up a scorecard that formed a perfect ten over, and over again in messy doodles, pointing back and forth between them.

"_I don't know_," Bunny's voice dropped and extended doubtfully, "Either I'm losing my touch then, or you need your eyes checked," he proposed, "Cause it's gotta be _pretty bad_ if frostbite won't even _look_."

"Yes, what is this second rudeness?" North nodded, somewhere in the sprite's peripherals. "Stop treating the silence Jack, you are hurting Bunnymund's feelings."

"Sorry, I spaced," Jack muttered apologetically, trying to muster his courage, but growing unconfident as the alcohol began to to blur his emotions—shifting them indiscernibly in his stomach as he began to pivot, "I was just thinking…"

"Thinking what?" Bunny asked.

Jack met the eyes he'd been avoiding, only to have the realty of it escape him in return—unable to conceive any situational awareness when sight and sound refused each other—the usually spellbinding vocals beginning to distort and fall away in syllables, lost to the features forming them.

"Frostbite?"

Jack opened his mouth a fraction of the way, but didn't make a sound—closing it momentarily after realizing it was agape, and then biting down gently on his bottom lip—pulling it between his teeth with these wide, vacant eyes—innocent, indecipherable, and driving Aster crazy when he couldn't read anything transpiring behind them.

"Thirty second delay…" Bunny trailed off, after the boy gave him nothing but awkward silence, "…thirty _one_...thirty _two_…" he began to count, tapering away in a laugh, and trying to appear casual—but it was this unsure, forced sort of sound that Jack had never heard before.

_Such a curious sound..._so hesitant and unconfident..._so human,_ Jack realized, cataloguing the unfamiliar mannerisms, and finding himself unsure of how he felt at that moment—continuing to freeze his features into a perfectly sculpted poker face as he watched Bunny's give themselves away; so easily, that it almost seemed accidental. Noticing the way he still went to rest against his heals, even though he no longer could, and understanding for the first time how vulnerable the Pooka must have felt without his fur—how exposed and unable to hide.

"Well,_ say something_," Aster stumbled, beginning to twiddle his fingers and pick at his cuticles, shifting his weight uncomfortably, desperate to draw the other out.

But still, there was nothing.

Only silence.

It wasn't his fault though. Jack _wanted_ to say something. He really did. But Bunny had stolen all of his words, and left him speechless instead—forcing him to stand there stupidly, in this drunken sort of daze, while a million different emotions fought for representation—too overwhelmed to process any of them.

Shock faded into awe—interchanging with a desire that transformed into fear—which blurred into confusion before melting into reticence—and then back to fear once more—exchanging it endlessly with desire, disbelief, and eventually insanity. Too unsure of this simultaneous sensation—this strange biological division between them that erased—the attraction that had long since altered, but never made any sense.

Never translated.

His mind was about ready to explode, wanting nothing more than to erase the lot of it from memory—rubbing his eyes raw rather than having to believe them—and before long, it was starting to show.

The elder took an uneasy step forward. "What's wrong?"

"You're not a kangaroo anymore," Jack exhaled disappointedly, dropping his shoulders in unison, and substituting the drawn out silence with reference points in an attempt to distract from the surfacing irregularities—from how deeply he'd begun to gaze—how soft and focused and far from innocent this was becoming.

A nervous excitement was swelling in the pit of his stomach, and the sight of the other was strangely stirring—watching fixedly as a pair of muscular arms folded across the impressive build of his chest—tan and smooth and tattooed in all the right places…

"And you're _certainly_ not _ordinary,_" Jack added softly.

Glancing up, Bunny returned the boy's gaze, but said nothing—almost as if he'd chosen not to hear—or just had no idea how to respond to something so seemingly misplaced.

Continuing to breathe the man in, in great detail, Jack followed the inward curve between deep, viridian eyes until they met at the bridge of his nose—flesh colored instead of pink—with a few scattered freckles in place of whiskers, so faint you could barely see them..._the kind__ I wouldn't mind nipping at..._he shivered, possessed with the sudden urge to do just that, sliding down the perfectly centered slope, and stopping when he reached the vertical groove that melted into the most tempting pair of lips.

_It should be illegal to look that good,_ Jack groaned inwardly—conflicted, offset, and completely unable to stop staring at Bunny's alternate form. Standing just as tall, his arms were still crossed, exposing tan forearms beneath the short sleeve fabric of a simple, grey button up—top two undone and no tie—tucked into the waistband of dark set denim that pooled around his bare feet.

A detail that drew a smile to the sprite's face.

His hair—what so little of it remained—was a soft, steely-shade—almost molten-silver where it tousled around his ears; still long, floppy, and folding backwards when baby-blue orbs did a double-take, tracing the sculpture of a well built, and more than able, body—from his abdomen all the way up to where his neck met the strong, defined jaw-line with just enough to stubble to be sexy.

"Fro—"

"How could you _possibly_ think you were _ordinary?_" Jack demanded—an innocent, soft sort of frustration in his voice when the other's embarrassment began to infuriate him.

The elder opened his mouth, but closed it again.

"I've never seen anything _like_ you," Jack confessed as he reached out; slowly uncurling his fingers as they hesitated forward, savoring the fleeting sensation of skin beneath his fingertips. "Not in three hundred years."

Rounding in a pained sort of refrain, Bunny's eyes were dilating and constricting in attempts to refocus around anything recognizable rather than pulling away from it—trying so very, very hard to draw some parallel between the soft, unexpected caress, and the bold, unhindered boy he'd never known to do such things.

Not like this. Not to him.

"That's because there aren't any left," the elder said quietly, offering the only response he could think to give, too painfully aware of how alcohol-induced the other's opinion had grown, "It's just me, frostbite."

Taking his hand back slowly, Jack met Bunny's eyes with a smile so honest and shy, and so unforgivably beautiful that the man couldn't help but swallow the soft-spoken inaccuracies shifting in their wake.

"I guess they really _do_ save the best for last then," he grinned, watching it provoke the color in the other's face as his smile grew wider and the word's lingered sweetly.

"You don't really mean that," the Australian dismissed gently, feeling the full extent of emotion misplace in his chest when Jack stepped forward to assure him that he did—accelerating Aster's once steady pulse into a conflicting interest of fear and longing—ears flattening farther, and farther as the sentiment became too much to stomach.

|12:45 **AM**|

"Should we…. leave you two alone?" North scratched his head, proceeding confusedly.

Bunny's head snapped to the side, "_What__?_"

"Your eyes are in the bedroom," the larger man shrugged, too drunk to realize how god awfully he was embarrassing them, "I was meaning to be polite.

"You mean _bedroom-_eyes?" Aster corrected with a sigh, shaking his head dismissively. "What was that you were tellin' me 'bout too much vodka, and no such thing?"

"I said," North began to pour, "That there is no…" the other cut him off.

"It was rhetorical, mate, now, _please_."

North threw his arms in the air, "_What!"_

"You _know_ what," Bunny glared, somehow less intimidating without his usual raising to full height, "Now _quit_ it."

"_Yeah_," Jack agreed, equally mortified, but trying not to draw anymore unnecessary attention to the fact by redirecting it elsewhere, "Can't you see he's _embawased?"_

Aster threw his hands down, "Alright, _that's it! _I really hope you had your fun," he snatched up his scotch, growing increasingly and unnecessarily livid, "but next time do me a favor and leave me the_ hell_ out of it."

And with that, he was gone.

"_Now_ look what you did," Tooth walked forward, almost as furious as Bunny, "Why did you have to go and tease him? _Both_ of you," she snapped, glancing harshly at one in particular, "I _told_ you how sensitive he is about this, Jack."

But Jack's eyes were already lost in the direction the other had stormed off in, feeling the pit of his stomach drop guiltily, never having intended for such a simple thing to set him off like that. _Bipolar much?_ Jack thought exasperatedly, blocking out the sound of Tooth's reprimands to stare at the distance he'd just forced Bunny, so thoughtlessly, into.

"Oh, Bunnymund has stick up the _you know where_," North shook his head, taking a drink. "It was just joke, Tooth."

_"Clearly_ not a very funny one," she gestured harshly at the exit route. "Do you even _remember_ how long it took us to calm him down the _last_ time?"

"I'll do it," Jack spoke up softly—causing the other two guardians to stop in mid-argument.

Tooth looked somewhat confused, as if the statement was misplaced coming from him of all people, even considering. "Pardon?"

"I said I'll do it," he repeated, eyes drawn to the ground, dragging one foot. "I'll go talk to him."

"_Perfect!" _North clapped both hands together, "See, Tooth? Closed case."

The look on her face wavered between doubt and consideration, "I don't know if that's the best idea..."

|1:00 **AM**|

Jack was already halfway out the door though, having a pretty good idea where the other had gone, and hoping desperately that he hadn't just ruined everything. _See?_ He thought, shaking his head in despair, _New Years is **cursed. **_

Feeling suddenly stupid, so very, _very_ stupid for his staring and caressing and hoping and wishing and what it had done to him—absolutely _furious_ that he had fallen so impulsively into such an irrational desire and lost all personal security in the process.

He couldn't help it. He wanted it. He wanted _him_.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it anymore.

_How did it come down to this?_ Jack wondered—kicking along a stray pebble—submerged in the calm, tranquil scenes of Bunnymund's warren outstretching, immeasurably, in every direction. He'd never felt like this before—so easily subject to feelings beyond his control. Ever since this whole idea had taken root in his subconscious, it had been nothing but a constant disruption—a needle hidden in the haystack of emotion piling up inside him—so carefully hidden, that it had taken half a year for him to find.

For him to realize what this was.

What this had _always_ been.

Jack felt his stomach spoil—misplacing the moments that transpired over the past couple hours—forcibly disregarding how much he'd enjoyed them, and how electrifyingly they'd jumpstarted in his chest. Sighing heavily, he felt the alcohol starting to play tricks on him, displacing the balance of rationale and logic, and diluting the truth into a watered down drink that was too hard to swallow.

|1:15 **AM**|

Aster looked up long before Jack had the chance to approach, "Not now, frostbite, this isn't a good time."

"You'd better make it one then," Jack replied with alcohol-induced confidence. "Because I'm not _going_ anywhere, and neither are you, _E. Aster. __I can't keep my promises," _the boy concluded with a caustic remark.

Sighing deeply, the other got to his feet, sliding a paintbrush into his back pocket, and offering Jack a sincere look of disquietude, "I _really_ don't wanna talk about it, mate."

"Then let's not talk," the teen took a step forward.

Aster eyed him strangely, "And just what exactly are you suggesting?"

Focusing in on the object, Jack felt the inebriating toxin cause his brain to digress desirably, emboldening him with the audacity to step over the boundaries he was already constantly crossing—hormones winning out to flawed logic—and curiosity threatening to kill him like a catlike-reflex. That awkward moment right before his mouth opened and the alcohol spilled out in sentence form…

"Wanna paint me instead?" he grinned devilishly.

"Paint? _You?_" Bunny repeated confused, taking a second to process as the suggestive tone cocked his ears to the side. "Are—are you trying to make a _pass_ _at me_, Frost?"

"That depends," Jack offered, leaning adorably into the side of his staff, "Did it work?"

"Did it _work_?" Bunnymund asked, ears lowering involuntarily, just ever so flustered. "I'm not even sure what you were trying to _insinuate_ yet."

"Because I wasn't," the reincarnate countered, falling playfully back into nursery rhyme rhythm. "I said what I meant, and I meant what I said_."_

"You mean like—_literally? _Why on _earth_ would I wanna _paint_ you?" Aster questioned, still failing to find any sense in the other's words, knitting his eyebrows to frame further confusion, "And why in _MiM's name_ would'ya _want _me to?"

Blue eyes sparkled mischievously, "I just figured you must be pretty good with your hands..."

"_Oh, _I am _so_ done with this conversation," Aster announced; sidestepping the sprite when Jack caught him by the arm, forcing his focus back to what he was trying both desperately, and in vain, to ignore. "_What?_" he demanded, his voice growing brisk. "Don't you have anything _better_ to do than bother me all the time?"

_"Better?"_ Jack asked, cocking his head to the side, continuing to lay the puns on thick. "What's better than _naked-skin_?"

Aster shrugged his arm out of the boy's grasp, roughly enough to be effective, "Are you _drunk_, Frost?"

"No, I'm immune to alcohol, that's why I drink it," the sprite rolled his eyes sarcastically; stepping back between Bunny and the path he tried to weave around him.

"What do you _want_ from me?" Aster's arms rose and fell in rapid gestures, losing natural instinct to the hypersensitivity of human nature, "You've been acting like this all night. And it's _weird,_" he glared skeptically, "Even for you."

"I like to think of myself as _unique_," Jack answered uncooperatively

Emerald eyes were unreceptive, "Don't avoid the subject, Frost."

Jack sighed, realizing he wasn't getting playful Bunny back anytime soon; causing his voice to drop indecipherably when he realized he may have broken this beyond fixing.

"_Well?"_ Bunny tapped his foot impatiently.

The younger boy glanced up, his offense evident. "Why is wanting to spend time with you _weird_?"

The reverse psychology caught Aster off guard, causing the elder to open his mouth, and then close it again. Sighing as his posture lost defensiveness, and his eyes rounded disappointedly.

Jack held his hips, impersonating the impatience, "_Well?"_ he demanded, "I'm _waiting_."

"It's not. You're right. I'm sorry," the elder exhaled—with what seemed to be great effort and a lack of discernible emotion—turning back towards the large, flat boulder he'd previously been sitting on, and signaling for Jack to follow.

Staring blankly for a moment, the gesture took a second to register, and the ghost-haired boy remained still, watching the other ease himself onto the surface, and pull the brush from his pocket.

"C'mere," Aster said gently, patting the empty space beside him.

Reluctant and unsure of what to expect, Jack approached gingerly, pausing nervously at the foot of the large, moss covered mass, and then glancing up undecidedly—too offset by the pre-menstrual-like mood swings they'd undergone to feel sure of anything anymore.

Sighing, Aster reached down. "C'mon," he began to lift the other gently, "Up you go, Frost."

Limp as a rag doll, Jack didn't even put up a fight when he felt the strong hands gather him up in their grasp—not even when Bunny turned him around, inched backwards, and sat Jack down between his legs—gently pushing up one the boy's sleeves, and opening a small, rectangular wooden case in the process."Now hold still," Bunny instructed quietly, the gentle curve of his stomach folding along the teen's back as he leaned over his shoulder, paintbrush in hand.

Drawing the utensil between his lips to wet the bristles, he proceeded to swirl them in the soft colored palette resting against his knee, and then across the boy's skin in steady strides. The strokes were soft, delicate, and sending shivers down Jack's spine—pulled into the other so closely that he could smell his cologne—the scent intoxicating him as he became increasingly aware of Aster's every outline engulfing, and enveloping his body...the warmth of his thighs...the rise and fall of his chest...even the fleeting sensation of his breathing...sweet, shallow, and colliding with his neck in gentle spurts...

...Jack was losing his shit, and Bunny was just…just _painting_. As if they did this every day. Silent as he hovered over the smaller boy, balancing his forearm against his leg, and drawing the brush back and forth in intricate, wintry designs; humming softly somewhere in Jack's peripherals.

_...Why isn't he saying anything?...Why won't he say anything?...Is he EVER going to SAY ANYTHING!?..._

Jack felt his heart beat accelerate.

..._I just don't understand why he's so_ _calm...How the **HELL** is he **SO**_ _**CALM**_..._**STOP BEING SO FUCKING CALM.**.._

His thoughts raced and outpaced the palpitating.

_...And **quiet.** And **composed.** And__Jesus-**CHRIST **don't you **dare** come any closer you overgrown...cross-polymerizing...kangaroo...man...**THING**...godDAMNIT why don't you listen!?_

He demanded ineffectually, all but hyperventilating as he sat their holding his breath, making up words, and trying to fathom how this frantic upheaval wasn't mutual upsetting, or even seemingly something that the other noticed.

Jack face was so frozen by that point that he looked as if he'd been carved straight from the side of a glacier—finally exhausting his ability to form thoughts—and looking helplessly to the aesthetics of the warren to distract him from this cruel and unusual contact instead. Gradually losing his eyes to the symmetries that morphed in and out of the shadows as the moonlight sifted through the clouds—strings of paper lanterns swinging back and forth in the breeze.

The air was warm and sweet—filling his lungs with calmness and ease as breathing became involuntary and set his heart back in steady motion. Heavily sedated and no longer concerned with the frost on his cheeks that had begun to melt as he allowed his back to sink into the body behind it—slowly, but surely drawing Aster out of focus.

|1:30 **AM**|

Jack was looking up at the stars. "This is nice," he said all of a sudden, almost as surprised at the sound of his own voice as he was with the words that fell so effortlessly into place, "I really like it here."

"Between my legs?" Bunny mused, glancing up before he returned to his brushstrokes.

"In your _warren,_ **stupid,"** his arm shot back, elbowing Aster between the ribs.

A strong hand steadied the fit, pressing into the boy's stomach, "_Hold still_," he reiterated, having smudged one of the snowflakes, "I'm almost done." Then a pause. "I didn't expect that though," Aster admitted, hiding the smudge in swirls of crystallized windfall, "It's the exact _opposite_ of wintertime here."

"That's why I like it," Jack breathed in and out slowly, "It's different."

His answer, however, only seemed to upset the pattern in Bunny's shallow breathing, the other guardian growing silent and steady, setting his brush to the side. "You wouldn't like it all the time though," he said quietly, blowing against the paint to help it dry.

"How do _you_ know?" Jack frowned, pulling his arm away.

Aster sighed, "Because I just _know._"

"Please," he angled himself, _"Elaborate."_

"It doesn't say the same," the elder simplified. "And eventually, you'd hate it."

Pale features failed to understand. "Nothing stays the same," he rationalized, "that doesn't mean I hate it though."

"Maybe not at first," green eyes became downcast, "but you'd learn to."

Jack met the presumptuous tone with contest, "How can you hate something that you already like?"

"Easily," Bunny moved away. "Too easily, actually."

The boy's eyebrow rose skeptically in response, "Speaking from experience, cottontail?"

"No," the other shook his head, "Just realistically."

"So, _realistically_," Jack inquired, "your point _is?_"

"Well," Bunny glanced away, "it wouldn't always look the way you wanted it to…"

"I don't care how it _looks_," the boy argued absurdly.

"No," Aster offered, switching tenses, "But you're going to."

And, suddenly, Jack wasn't so sure that Bunny was talking about the warren anymore...

|1:55 **AM**|

The conversation didn't seem to finish; in fact, it just seemed to end. This fleeting, transitory lapse in accuracy that couldn't be expanded upon—couldn't be trusted in the hands of the person who hadn't seen it until now. Jack supposed, on the surface level at least, that him and Bunny had grown to be friends over time.

And that was the problem.

Friendship was a dangerous concept, both an invitation and a denunciation, a boundary that could be bent and broken—a boundary between them that had always been unclear. Opening the doorway to deeper, personal connections—it provided the keys; however, intimacy was a debatable and interchangeable motion, and often changed its locks without warning.

Therefore, closeness was somewhat hazardous, unlocking entryways that weren't clearly labeled, and allowing feelings to morph in and out of certainty as they blurred and broke the platonic borderline. However, it was a line that must be crossed by both sides to maintain balance—and more often times than not, it seemed that there were really two lines instead—one thick, and solid—and the other broken—allowing one person to intersect, while the other remained stationary.

In all his selfishness, Jack had never stopped to consider that _he_ was the one standing still before. That Bunny had changed lanes, and he'd become a blind spot. That evasive area that was always lingering—was always waiting somewhere off to the side—life threatening, but so easily forgotten.

Jack was no child though; and he knew that object permanence was merely a misconception of the mind—a stage we overcome with age—and although he had ceased to breath just shy of his nineteenth birthday, he had never forgotten how to _see_.

Being invisible made attention to detail an imperative attribute; so he had long since learned to see through other's as they so unfailingly saw through him. And Jack knew, without a doubt, that you didn't just _pretend_ things weren't there because the view had been obstructed—that you didn't avoid the obvious, unless you were hiding it.

And the other was, if nothing else, infamous for hiding.

_It makes sense, doesn't it?_ He asked himself, glancing to the elder who walked next to him in unchallenged silence—it made too much sense actually. Why Sandy had let it slip that Bunny was afraid of what Jack would think of him—why Bunny, had in turn, stormed away when the boy had exposed nothing but admiration….

He'd changed lanes.

Just like Jack said. He'd left the signal flashing, visibly for everyone to see. He'd shown every sign of slowing down, and switching speeds. But he'd always been faster, and Jack had let the opportunity pass him by a hundred different times. Too concerned with his recklessness to take the rules seriously.

The laws of attraction he'd violated—because he'd never noticed.

Never acknowledged this.

That the other had brought him back to life; and the strange cardiac calisthenics had corroded in a cacophony of collisions, swallowing the steady beat that skipped between them—throwing off the platonic palpitations until his head and his heart had gone to war with each other and Bunny had been paralyzed in the crossfire—trapped between a faulty trigger finger and a bullet he couldn't bite.

Like a game of _Russian Roulette_—one bullet, six spaces—unexpected, but lethal—and Jack was the hand that spun the revolver around as if this were all just a game—until the gun retracted heatedly, and shot him straight in the face.

_He's always known,_ Jack realized sadly, and suddenly so disappointed in himself for such blatant unwillingness to look down the barrel that had been staring him in the face this whole time; for never seeing it, because he never wanted to. Never wanted to believe that the jesting and the teasing were like an adolescent cry for help—the opposition that was meant to distract from the fact that the polarity had reversed, and begun to attract.

And what better way to play off something so serious, than by pretending it was nothing?

After all, they were both so good at it, weren't they?

_"It wouldn't always look the way you wanted it to…"_ Aster's words looped in his head like madness; the worst kind of cliffhanger—inconclusive and intoxicating—leaving Jack's overactive imagination to shade in all the foreshadowing as it lodged in his brain. _There's just no way he was still talking about the warren, _he concluded, _it was too well-timed, too specific—_the train of thought unfolded with increasing conviction—_and I highly doubt he's put that much thought and consideration into my preference of living standards…_

However, there was a small, prevailing chance that he had, in fact, put as much thought into Jack. He'd never said anything about it before, but why would he? Bunny was the most '_to himself'_ person Jack knew. His thoughts were calm, calculated, and catalogued in alphabetical order; nothing was ever out of place, and sometimes even his spontaneity felt censored.

Rehearsed.

Like someone had handed him a script, and he'd been playing the part for years. Leaving Jack as the not-so-subtle plot twist that threw off routine and characterization—entering Bunny's life as a cameo that should never have lasted, episodically reappearing until he'd become a part of the cast. Tooth had insinuated as much when she'd challenged him earlier—_"does he though?" _she asked, forcing Jack to reflect—_did_ Aster really know that all his teasing, and all his aloofness was all just an act?

The answer, however offsetting, was _no_.

_How could he have **possibly** known when I'd only been pretending to by myself? _He wondered, suddenly glaring at the other who hardly seemed to notice—_the real question is how could you **not** know,_ Jack re-directed his thoughts telepathically, scoffing internally at the notion of 'acting naturally'—_it's the biggest oxymoron since jumbo-shrimp, and you of all people should know the difference._

Or did he?

Jack shook his head, the alcohol was convoluting his brain, and his drunken thoughts were altering the ability to process coherent, sober words—unable to conclude if he was even making any sense—all his fancy, poetic metaphors becoming nothing more than a well-dressed distraction from the fact he couldn't bring himself deal with this directly. The elephant in the room that neither of them would admit was there—object permanence once again becoming one of Piaget's stages that they had yet to overcome.

|2:05 **AM**|

Upon reentering, Aster observed Jack's silence knowingly. "Are you thinking too much about what I said?" he asked, but not unkindly. "Because I can tell when you do—your mouth starts to move a little, and you fixate on focal points."

Jack's eyes snapped back into focus, and he felt like there really _wasn't_ anything he could hide anymore—no blind spot big enough to swallow him—and Bunny caught that just as quickly.

"Don't be embarrassed, and stop thinking everything I say always has a double-meaning behind it," he observed effortlessly, "I was just telling you that what you said wasn't spot-on, that's all."

Stopping, blue eyes narrowed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to _think_ before you _speak?"_ he asked accusatorially.

The other paused, finally turning to establish some sort of contact, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means,_ that _maybe_ you shouldn't just _assume_ that you _know everything,"_ Jack spat venomously.

Bunny sighed, "Where is this coming from? If you think I was out of line, then I apologize, but—"

"If I _think?"_ Jack repeated furiously. "I don't _think_ you were out of line, you _were_ out of line. Just do me a favor, and stop pretending like you know me so well, okay?"

The notion seemed saddening. "This can't _possibly_ still be about the warren, mate," the elder stated, and the irony was so accurate that it hurt.

"Was it _ever_ really about the warren?" Jack challenged, redirecting with questions to keep forcing answers, "Or was that just another one of those _double-meanings_ that you claim _don't_ exist?"

"C'mon, Jack," Aster began seriously, he never called him by his first name unless it was serious, "What is this really about?"

"You tell me."

The other sighed, "I wouldn't be asking if I could now, would I?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, it wouldn't make much sense," Aster concluded.

Jack's voice rose incredulously, "Half the things you _do_, don't make sense," he rationalized, "You're always saying things, but they never mean a goddamn thing."

"Half the things _I_ do?" the other questioned disbelievingly, losing the calm, composure of his mask when the inconsistencies became too fluid to frame. "_Look who's talking!_"

"Don't turn this on me," Jack shook his head unreceptively. "We're not talking about _me,_ we're talking about _you."_

"Yeah?" Aster asked. "Well it's a two way street, and this goes both ways, Frost."

The conversation was growing too satirical to stomach, and it felt as if Bunny had once again read every one of Jack's thoughts, and then used them against him—taking his comparative diversions and disposing of them one by one to draw this out into the open.

"_What_ goes both ways, Bunny, _do_ be specific," Jack sneered, feeling small and childish, and furious with the other for making him.

His features twisted into an unreceptive frown, "That's not fair."

"_This_ isn't fair," the sprite folded his arms tightly across his chest.

"What is _this_?" Bunny smiled sweetly, redirecting the evasive tactics.

Jack glared, "Like you don't already know."

"Hello _pot_, I'm _kettle_," the other extended his hand sarcastically, "Have we met?"

_"See!"_ Jack threw his arms up. "You _never_ take me seriously."

Aster stared blatantly, "Says the person who never takes _anything_ seriously."

"That isn't true," his cheeks frosted heatedly, "I take _a lot_ of things seriously."

"You don't even know what that word means," Bunny shook his head, "you toss it around like an egg, too stupid to realize how fragile it is."

"I wasn't aware this was an egg-toss," Jack rolled his eyes, "I'll be sure to remember that next time so I can take five steps back instead of wasting them all on you."

"You know what, that's _your_ problem, Frost. You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself," he finished, voice catching on every syllable.

"Wrong again." Jack stated coldly, "It was being stupid enough to give a damn about _you."_

|2:15 **AM**|

The night had all but collapsed on itself, and Aster found himself wishing that he could simply take back every single thing he'd said—harsh words all hanging in the air—wondering if he was wrong to leave them there like that. If perhaps he was wrong to let Jack choke on all these liquid lies, and preemptive smiles, while he himself clung to the skirts of his excuses—too over protective to do anything but the smother the poor boy.

How could he possibly let something so beautiful breathe? If this started, he wouldn't be able to stop himself; he knew that already. It's not like he could honestly stand there and deny that he'd been so very tempted to submit to it; after all, he wasn't blind, he could see full well how the boy looked at him... all the ways Jack never knew that Bunny had been looking at _him_.

How he had _always_ looked at him.

It was so terribly hard not to, to be honest, and the soft, disorienting sort of seduction was making it all the more impossible to look anywhere else; but he couldn't let the knots in his stomach pull him anywhere near the boy they were already wrapping around, because he just _couldn't_. It couldn't happen, not now, not ever, not for a _hundred_ good reasons.

But it wasn't supposed to hurt this much...knowing the difference it made...but it _did,_ and it hurt like hell...hurt him so badly to know that he'd only now become interesting...after everything about him had changed

|2:20 **AM**|

_"And it's hard to learn, and it's hard to love, when you're giving me such sweet nothing…"_

The lyrics broke against his ears like an auditory slight; as if New Years had personally taken the single, most heartbreaking moment, and then set it to a soundtrack; looping endlessly in his head. Could the selection have possibly come at a worse time? Mocking Jack with the sweet intonations that narrated his feelings as if they were nothing more than lyrics to a song—empty words that never belonged to him.

_"Sweet nothing, sweet nothing. You're giving me such sweet nothing…"_

Jack rubbed his eyes furiously when they began to prickle, not wanting the other guardians to notice his features as they fell; as Aster entered the room only seconds behind, and the words sank heavily like a weight in his chest. Coining the phrase that pays—the sweet-nothings that formed an unfeasible debt—the price Jack would never be able to pay…

_"It isn't easy for me to let it go______—__cause I swallowed every single world. And every whisper, every sigh—eats away at this heart of mine. And there is a hollow in me now..."_

…because they didn't **mean** _anything_; because the truth of it was, they were exactly what they claimed to be—soft-spoken exchanges that held no emotional value. Bunny had built a bridge between them and then burnt down; tricking him into thinking he was crossing over, when he was merely falling through.

Saddening him irreconcilably when Jack realized that he'd lost sight of how to share himself with anyone...

_____"So I put my faith in something unknown—I'm living on such sweet nothing—but I'm tired of hope with nothing to hold..._

|2:25 **AM**|

North was well in his cups by the time they'd gotten back, and Tooth was scolding them for worrying her half to death, but Jack couldn't muster up the strength to deal with any of it. Too exhausted and defeated and terribly aware that _New Years _had played him like a puppet wearing strings—offering only the false impression that he had any control. Over himself, or the night, or the hand falling hesitantly across his shoulder.

"Sorry _T,_" Aster exchanged formalities, "but I need to borrow Jack for a second."

_"Sorry, Bunny,"_ Jack pulled away, "but I'm busy right now."

Tooth blinked.

"Well you should'a thought about that earlier."

"What happened earlier?" she asked, glancing back and forth between hostility and avoidance. "What's going on?"

Blue eyes pierced, "There's nothing to talk about."

"There's _a lot_ to talk about," the other stepped forward.

"Not anymore, you saw fit to that."

"Saw fit to _what_?" Tooth interjected once more.

"_Please_," Aster's head snapped in her direction, unable to mask his irritation, "Just stay out of it."

She drew back, slightly shocked and a little hurt by Bunny's dissmisal.

"Don't _yell_ at her," Jack snapped.

"Who is yelling?" North boomed drunkenly, "Bunnymund, is that you?"

The Australian sighed, drawing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "_Yes, North_, it's me," he confirmed, losing patience fast.

"You are troubled," the older man swayed, setting a hand on the guardian's shoulder, "What is wrong? Where is Jack!?"

The sprite flicked his wrist, "_Right here,_ big guy."

"Oh!" North jumped back, "Then who is _that?"_

Jack stepped back perplexedly, staring at Bunny as they both glanced towards the empty space, losing their tempers somewhere in the confusion.

"Oh, _North!_" Tooth rushed forward, "I told you only _one more_ glass!"

"_One more glass!_?" The other's eyes lit up hopefully.

The Guardian of Memories smacked her forehead, "Oh, brother."

"Who's brother?" thick eyebrows furrowed. "Is that who that is?"

"North," Jack interrupted, "There's nobody there."

"Exactly how much _have_ you had to drink?" Aster steadied the swaying strides.

The other didn't seem to hear him though, "And why does Jack look like easter-egg?"

Jack yanked down his sleeve, quick to hide the evidence.

"Why _are_ you full of paint?" Tooth cocked her head to the side, trying to get a better look when the sleeve obstructed her view.

Wobbling over in a disoriented hover, Sandy began to form something that looked like two people before North lunged forward.

"_Sandy!"_ he cried, quickly censoring the array of imagery that Jack could only guess had been explicit, "Not in front of the small one!"

Aster rubbed his temples, "This isn't happening."

|2:37 **AM**|

But it was. And Bunny was quickly losing the ability to ignore it.

|2:46 **AM**|

Jack felt the soft pressure of hands folding over his shoulders, knuckles furrowing in an almost massage like motion that both eased, and heightened the tension. "C'mon," Aster prompted, even though all Jack had given him in response was an impervious scowl, "Let's go for a walk."

The smaller boy hadn't moved a muscle though, and all he could feel were the strong, tempting pair of hands that refused to play fair—easing one of his palms along the back of Jack's neck, with his thumb on one side, and the rest of his fingers on the other, all simultaneously simultaneously in a pressured rotation.

The winter sprite shuddered involuntarily, a reaction that was both inaccurate and misleading in comparison to what was convulsing in his chest at that point; pulling forward uncooperatively, but only to feel the other's grip grow firmer, and almost demanding. Applying just enough force to ease the boy back into the fact that it had not been a request—and just enough that it was turning Jack on way more than it should be.

He hated him for that. For having such inexplicable control over him without demonstrating any discernible intent, or even applicable effort; instead, every motion became accidentally sexual, overriding the boy's capacity to endure the overwhelming excitement of flesh-on-flesh. How easily Bunny seduced him out of infuriation, and into the clutches of a not-so-innocent frustration when Jack wanted nothing more than to be furious with him.

There was surely nothing worse than folding beneath another's touch when you wished to curdle at the mere sight of it; and the combination of alcohol and raw masculinity were making the unintentionally arousing impressions swell from his brain down to his loins.

The deadly combination of factors that made this hard to ignore and even harder to resist, even when they brokered no real incentive; however, that couldn't seem to stop Jack from melting like a marionette in the palm of Bunny's hand—just _waiting _for his strings to be pulled.

Craning his neck backwards, Jack provoked a sharp, upward range of contact—what had once started out as a self-fashioned _'go fuck yourself'_ glare quickly transforming into a come-hither _'fuck me instead'_ stare. He probably should have been more embarrassed than he was; but then again, it was such an involuntary reflex—and one that he had not willed into place.

Besides, the contact was stimulating, even if it delivered about as much as a thirty-second Internet clip, only enough to successfully achieve a heightened state of desire, but never the decency to take responsibility for the action. However, being left unable to seek relief directly from the source is what made it so needlessly exhilarating to uphold the pending frustration through the exchange of their eyes.

And Jack could feel his own becoming electrically charged against the opposing, yet similar, frequency that sapphire eyes began swallowing the reflections of—Bunny's emerald green auras dying out when the contrasting intensity overwhelmed their expectancy. Staring up unflinchingly as the other began to shift uneasily; the grip of Aster's fingers became less persuasive as the strength of their conviction weakened on contact—and Jack's provided all the inference they would ever need.

"Hey," he released softly, only addressing the man above him, in hopes to draw contact and conversation out for as long as possible before the Kangaroo usurped all authority over them; _which really isn't something I'd mind come to think of it..._

Swallowing, Bunny, admittedly, met the look with moderate surprise, and not nearly enough immunity as he would have liked, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it was rude to stare, mate?"

"Then look away," the smaller boy challenged, the ambiguous angle in his smile narrowing into the kind of smirk that could drive a grown man wild.

And the elder seemed to fall victim to the assertion, temporarily forgetting himself, unable to resist how quickly the gaze tangled him back into those conflicting knots again—winding through the one's that were still trying to unravel under the ever-changing contexts.

"Never said I wanted'tah," Aster redirected indiscernibly, but with all the confidence of someone with more experience.

It was a sound that couldn't easily be swayed, a sound that Jack would love to swallow whole until he could feel it writhe deep inside him somewhere—_anywhere—everywhere_ his thoughts tacked on systematically, taking his once well in-tended comparison and turning it into exactly what it sounded like.

"_Ohhh, _I see," Jack expressed suggestively, purposely moving his lips in the shape of the sound, "You like the angle, huh?"

"Depending on who's in it," the other guardian shrugged, predominantly unfazed, and unaffected; except for the over articulated and shapely mouth that was causing his fingers to curl, just noticeably, into a tighter grip.

A grip that did not go unnoticed to the muscles it was teasing and tensing with its soft, almost empty, pressure; a force that quickly transferred, and extended its range of contact as Jack detected the hypersensitive sensation of Bunny's hands sliding down the lengths of his arms.

"So, about that walk," Aster tried again, gathering the other's hands in his own, and forcing his fingers between the spaces; still devoid of any sexual implication, but far too brash and unprecedented to be contrived as normalcy—an inconsistency open for interpretation.

An interpretation that Jack had been adapting in his mind for quite awhile now, and one that transfixed him regardless of any discernible conclusion—and although there was a rather prominent part of the boy that preferred to dismiss it, in its entirety, he'd already succumbed to the allure—deciding that he'd rather get lost within his favorite fantasy than spend the night infuriated in the face of it's illogical existence.

That even though he was still partially furious with Bunny, that he'd rather trade anger for shameless pleasures of provoked contact instead—allowing Aster's fingers to slip between the empty spaces, and lift him from the couch in one, easy motion—neither of them paying the slightest attention to whether or not they were being watched, the fact of the matter never even occurring to them.

Still slightly nervous, in that fearful pit of his stomach, Jack readied himself for the possibility that Bunny's fingertips would become fleeting; but to his pleasant, and unforseen, surprise they were steadfast, and unexpectedly reassuring. A sort of vicarious strength that he felt transferring from the strong, stoic man he'd never gotten this close to before, whose own hands held onto his with an unfaltering grip as they pulled him towards the uncertainty awaiting this 'walk' of sorts he'd proposed.

Even in his fit of scatterbrained elation though, Jack wasn't stupid enough to believe that the gesture was without consequence—or that Aster hadn't intended to turn this into some talk of deeper unpleasantries that they'd not yet hashed out prior—however, he decided then and there that he'd do just about anything if it meant the other would keep touching him...

|3:00 **AM**|

"You know you really don't have to do this…"

"Sure I do," he shrugged.

Jack turned to face him. "Bunny, I'm serious…"

Smiling warmly, he took both of the boy's hands. "So am I."

Jack sighed, but not before focusing in on a distinct pattern of shivers pulsing through him—they were becoming so hard to ignore lately—recently—_always,_ Jack supposed was a better way the phrase it. They came in different waves and motions, but they all crashed and broke against the image of the one, and only, E. Aster.

And no one else. Not for a very long time.

The dimensions of Bunny's warren seemed to bend in misleading directions though as Jack developed the increasing awareness of paint on his skin, and the circumstances of the last moment they'd shared out here. A moment that wasn't exactly helping to quell the yearning sensation that his stomach seemed content to savor; continuously teasing him with the incomplete idea of what it truly felt like to be between the other's legs.

However, their previous conversation had left Jack completely unprepared for this, and he would have never guessed that Bunny had something up his sleeve.

It wasn't grandiose or material. It was just nice. A nice gesture. And that's what made it all the more tempting. Bunny explained that it was to make up for earlier, and Jack explained that it wasn't necessary.

But Aster insisted—so he didn't argue.

Following his footfalls in a pattern towards the shallow stream of iridescent _egg-dye_, he watched Bunny bend over to shuffle a stray egglet back into its group. Jack paused, cocking his head to the side, and allowing himself to trace the curve of Aster's backside—deep denim fabric stretching taut and well-defining around his thighs and lower region until almost all false modesty had been forgotten as he continued to stare.

Another key piece of imagery that did nothing but provoke the endless train of thought and fantasy spiraling simultaneously through both chambers of his heart as it began accelerating—the imagery adorning the walls of his brain completely clad in various motions of their bodies tangling in an x-rated swirl. But with the combination of Aster and alcohol, he'd already known it wouldn't be long before these sorts of ideas overwhelmed him. Jack couldn't say they were the most accurate, or the most innocent of images, but as long as they entailed Bunny, then they were perfect for producing certain _side-effects. _

He'd never been attracted to another man before. In truth, he'd only ever really _been_ with one other person, and _she_ was a girl. Someone he'd known growing up, and didn't like to talk about.

Ever.

Frowning suddenly to himself for forcing her memory indirectly back into mind by telling himself _not_ to think about it. It wasn't that he still loved her; well, not romantically, or that he'd never gotten over her—he just didn't like to think about life before this.

Because it was all gone. All dead.

Wasn't that ironic? In its own twisted, little way? He'd died a young man of eighteen years—before any of them—and yet he'd outlived them all, at least a hundred years over. Although he supposed, perhaps, that was another thing Bunny and he had in common—they'd outlasted everyone they'd ever known. Sure, if you wanted to split hairs, his situation lacked in comparison to the Pookah's more tragic tale—but Jack didn't like divvying up people's personal lives incrementally, and awarding merits of _better_ or _worse. _No, he just liked to find the little similarities between them—those little bridges that the world had built.

He liked those little things they had in common, and often times wondered if they weren't the real reason this little attraction had grown and flourished in the first place—the foundation upon which Jack had erected this idea of them together. It wasn't always this intense, not by a long shot; in fact if you'd tried to sing him such a song a year ago—Jack would have laughed wholeheartedly in your face.

Not because it was insulting or 'ludicrous to assume' or that he was even judgmental, but the concept hadn't existed in the puritanistic era he'd grown young in. Well, he was sure it had _existed,_ somewhere, behind some closed doors, between some people at some point; but it had never been something he'd ever thought to consider until he'd found that _someone_.

|3:10 **AM**|

"I feel bad about what I said earlier," Aster admitted, releasing the rest with slight difficulty, "And I can't stand to see you so upset."

"But I thought…"

"That I don't ever think about you?" Bunny finished for him.

"Yeah," Jack sank back; even more bewildered with verbalization of the fact than the implications of the gesture itself.

"Well you thought wrong," he sat down next to him, left thigh pressed against the boy's right, not too much, but just enough to feel the heat.

Without meaning to, Jack's eyes reached out into Bunny's again, and the words slipped out helplessly, "It seems there's a lot I've been wrong about lately."

"Oh yea?" Aster asked, but had to turn away, his cheeks were pink.

"Yeah." Jack pulled the edge of his bottom lip in thoughtfully with his teeth, watching deep, viridian eyes as they followed the motion.

When Bunny looked back up, his pupils dialted and constricted against his attempts to readjust and refocus around something recognizable again, but Jack knew he wasn't going to see anything, because there was nothing about them that was the same anymore. Sometimes it was less noticeable and sometimes it was obvious, but Aster always caught it, and it left him looking scared again.

Just like earlier in the night—before and after he'd swapped forms—the cautious looks and glances that turned so utterly terrified upon meeting his crystallized gaze—as if he feared Jack as some mortal weakness.

Some unexplainable threat.

Nervously repositioning, Aster's hands retracted to his sides, and Jack noticed the uneasy sway set into motion. "Well, to err is human," he laughed that painfully fake laugh, "Right?"

"Is that a confession?" Jack leaned slightly forward, making sure to fill even more, but not all of the space left between them. It wasn't an advance, not truly, but Bunny shrunk away from it. And there was something both exciting and empowering about how easily he was controlling the ebb and flow of their bodies, something setting _him_ into motion.

Temporarily joining the power trip, Aster's face closed another fraction of space. "Did you want one?" he asked, his breath misting and dissolving against Jack's.

For half a second he could taste it—the fleeting brush of a kiss he'd never gotten floating over his lips and retracing the proximity he longed to close, breathing in the tasteless atmosphere, and thinking how it should have tasted like springtime and the occasional cigarette Bunny claimed he never had—pulling forward and thinking how it was as good a time as any to find out if that were true...

"Not as much as I was this," he mumbled.

|3:17 **AM**|

Groaning vexedly, there was nothing Bunny could do about it, pulling Jack into his chest when he realized this accident was no longer preventable—sinking into his mouth with a deep, yet delicate, urgency—lips parting slowly, but starting to press harder—fingers furrowing through ghost-white strands, and angling their heads to gain access.

Out of breath and out of focus, words were lost and consequences temporarily forgotten.

Jack held on tightly to his wrists, then his waist, then the back of his neck; returning the faster, stronger pace and trying to remember not to open his mouth too wide—hands clutching Aster's back when his steady fingertips collided with the boy's skin—sliding up the length of his stomach, and securing a firm grip that drew them closer. Pressing his lips into Jacks so softly, and so sweetly that it felt unforgivable somehow, clenching his fists, and holding the boy's entire body like he was terrified to let go.

It only lasted for a moment, before something forced them apart, and they were reversed back into an anatomic position; the lack of continuity they upheld refusing consistency like two opposing magnets.

Bunny disengaged and his body language became distant. An aurora borealis of amaranth, fire-brick, and crimson cascaded across his cheekbones and bent over the bridge of his nose in a furious burning. His face twisted in pained confusion, green eyes began to cloud with scattered frequencies of thought, and then he left Jack sitting there dumbfounded and speechless.

He just turned around and left without saying so much as a single word.

|3:25 **AM**|

Captivated, aggravated, perplexed, and amazed—Jack sank back into the grass, completely overwhelmed, and suddenly beginning to pour tears that he couldn't match any emotion to—unable to breathe as the oxygen tore through his lungs, and all seven letters smacked him in the face.

_Friends. _

Exhaustion swept over him, and the darkness was swallowing Jack faster than he could form symbolism for. The dilapidated cairns spread throughout the warren were whispering calm yet chilling riffs as the wind poured through the cracks in their consistancies; and the opposing force of gravity was aching under the phantom pressure of past words, _"you don't even know what that word means," _and suddenly Jack felt fourteen more hit him even harder.

_Nothing._ _Serious._

|3:40 **AM**|

"North!" Bunnymund yelled, after the rather inebriated guardian had wandered off towards his tunnels, "Sleighs over there," he pointed in the other direction "That's Africa, mate."

The man's face flushed with increasing confusion as they found this to be true, Tooth scurrying around behind him to usher him towards the preprogrammed coordinates of his massive, rickety hunk of machinery—Jack hiccuping in laughter when the Guardian of Wonder demanded what Africa was doing in the middle of Australia.

Aster shook his head, "I'll tell you later," he assured, knowing it would give North an incentive to leave so that he'd be that much closer to unraveling the mystery that was simply made such by all the alcohol going straight to his brain, and that all would soon be forgotten.

"YES," he over-emphasized, climbing into the sleigh with Tooth's assistance, "we must be getting to the bottom of this—until next time old, friend!"

"Until next time," Bunny agreed, wondering if it wasn't smarter to take the man home himself when North began to holler at one of his _Sentinels_, insisting it was Jack.

"Say goodbye to your brother for me," he instructed, swaying with the reigns in one hand, while the other rose in a 'peace' like veer, "And _remember,_ EYES IN HEAD, Jack!" North shouted over the sound of _actual_ Jack, stubby fingers pointing from his own towards what he thought to be the boy's, in a forewarning gesture. "You are _finally_ off naughty list, so be looking twice," the larger man shook his finger continuously, and quite frankly to the sprite's relief at this point, towards the inanimate object, "or else maybe you will be making list of your own! Alcohol does this, I know," North nodded.

"_Ohhhkay!" _Tooth shoved the drooping, tethered cable back into his hands, "I think that's enough, North—Bunny's more than capable of keeping Jack off any _lists_," she shot the humanoid an equally speculative and unconvinced glance.

North slapped his knee, finding this hilarious. "Bunnymund keep Jack _off_ list!?" he belted out with laugher; as if the combination were the punch line to some brilliant, ongoing joke. "Bunnymund will be what is putting him at TOP of list!"

Jack glanced knowingly to Aster, looking unappreciative as ever, but too human to hide how red in the face he was; especially when North roared onward, Sandy appearing beside him in a similar burst; rolling around his cloud with what looked like a yogurt cup above his head.

"_Oh no sandman_, too much, _too much!_" the larger man wiped away involuntary tears of drunken amusement, turning in whichever direction seemed right, "Did you hear that _silly rabbit!?" _he asked, shouting at a group of terrified egglets, "_Tricks are for Kids!"_

"_Anddd_ you really just said that," Bunnymund sighed, eyes turning upward, distractingly towards the sky as he shook his head. "_All of that,"_ he murmured conclusively under his breath; certain now, more than before, that he would never again be able to meet the other boy's eyes for as long as they both lived.

Which, how conveniently, was forever.

Quickly, Tooth pressed the buttons on North's sleigh in the right order, sending the vessel off in a trail of echoing laughter, until it faded into complete, and utterly awkward silence; after which the remaining three guardians shuffled back inside for lack of better ideas—Tooth having already bid her goodbyes shortly after North's abrupt departure, excusing herself due to both the time, and a certain _other_ Holiday that she traditionally _rang_ the New Year in with.

Which, according to Sandy, looked as if she'd intended to take a tumble with some medieval rendition of what Aster _assured_ him was supped to be Cupid's bow-and-arrow, and _not at all_ what it looked like; Jack finding himself much and more relieved, seeing as there were some things about his fellow guardians he'd rather _not_ know. The pre-battery-era-operating-looking device Sandy insisted on forming, being one of them.

|3:59 **AM|**

That is, until the little, golden ball of drunken dream sand too seemed to have disappeared; and it was just the two.

The two of them.

All alone, and with so much to talk about...

**-.-.-.-**

**to be continued.**

***peeks one eye out***

**hoping not to see readers raising pitchforks.**

**is it cruel and unusual to still ask for reviews after cliffhanger no.2..?**


End file.
